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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248207">Body Gold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelhighways/pseuds/cruelhighways'>cruelhighways</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Percy Jackson and the Olympians &amp; Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Nerve (2016) Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:48:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248207</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelhighways/pseuds/cruelhighways</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Annabeth, desperate for the chance to get out of a hard situation, joins a game called Nerve. By completing dares, she wins money. Still, there's danger involved—as she plays, the game's dark nature is revealed. Annabeth soon finds herself partnered up with a bruised boy by the name of Percy Jackson, who could either be her saving grace or her downfall...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Jason Grace/Piper McLean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>"Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.</em><em>" </em>—<em>R.S.</em></p>
<hr/><p>Annabeth sat, cross-legged, in her stepmother's art studio. The strange sounds of Bowie's Ziggy Stardust echoed from her battered record player in the corner and pale sunlight drifted through the window blinds, slashing shafts of hazy morning gold down the studio's white walls.</p><p>Annabeth's hands were covered in layers of slowly drying paint—blue pigment was crusted beneath her nails and in the lines of her palms. A paintbrush hung loosely between two fingers, forgotten. She glared at the piece she was working on—it was an abstract seascape, a foaming mess of paint. Needless to say, she hated it. It was taking her hours and she was utterly bored with trying to fix its flaws. With every second that passed, the painting looked less and less comprehensible.</p><p>With a hoarse sigh, she set down her brush. She lay down on her back, feeling the floor's hard floorboards pressing uncomfortably into her spine. Maybe she'd have another go at the painting later, but she imagined it was probably just going to join the dozens of other unfinished works stacked against the left wall.</p><p>Suddenly, a harsh, cacophonous clatter resounded through the apartment from the kitchen. The noise was quickly followed by a shout and a pained curse. "Mother<em>fuck</em>—"</p><p>"You okay?" Annabeth called.</p><p>After a pause, Helen yelled back. "Yeah, don't worry, sweetie! Just, ah, dropped a couple of plates."</p><p>Annabeth got up to check on Helen. Recently, her stepmom had been unravelling like this more and more. In the years since Annabeth's dad—Helen's husband—had died, she'd been a little unstable. Annabeth supposed it was better like this, though. If Helen had kept it together, Annabeth would've had space to grieve—and then where would she be?</p><p>After a moment of deliberation, Annabeth headed to the kitchen. Inside, Helen sat at the bar surface. The smashed remains of china plates littered the floor, and Helen was nursing a bloody hand. When Annabeth walked in, though, she hid it behind her back. "Oh! Hi, darling." Helen's voice was choked with quiet tears, even through her false, wide smile.</p><p>Annabeth walked straight to her, already grabbing the medicine box. "Hand."</p><p>"Annabeth, I promise it's fine—"</p><p>She fixed Helen with a cold look. "I'm not in the mood right now. Give me your hand or I'll let you clean all this shit up yourself."</p><p>Helen exhaled shakily. A few heartbeats passed before she offered Annabeth her hand. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, soft as anything. Annabeth wasn't sure when the roles had switched in their mother-daughter relationship, but she knew that they had.</p><p>It took her barely a minute to clean up her stepmother's hand, ignoring Helen's winces as she pressed an alcohol swab to the wound. Silence hung heavy in the air between them. Annabeth hurried to finish—the feeling of Helen's searching eyes on her face wasn't a pleasant one. When she finished securing the bandage, Annabeth couldn't step away fast enough. A flood of cool relief washed through her as distance was re-established between them.</p><p>Helen opened her mouth, hesitant. "Annabeth," she started.</p><p>Annabeth interrupted, unwilling to hear whatever she had to say. "Don't." Grabbing a dustpan and brush, she nimbly swept up the ruined china. The shards made a hollow clunk when they landed in the trash can.</p><p>She left. Helen didn't call after her, silent as she watched her daughter leave.</p><p>Annabeth headed for her room, not the studio. She shut the door behind her and threw herself on the bed, sprawled in a mess of limbs. She could still hear the faint hum of Ziggy Stardust from the studio, as the record hadn't yet finished. As she lay on her bed, staring vacantly up at her ceiling, she found herself mouthing along to 'Suffragette City,' barely able to hear the vocals through the wall.</p><p>The silver alarm clock beside her bed glowed faintly, flickering from 8:55 to 8:56 AM. Annabeth was exhausted—she'd been working on that goddamn painting all night and hadn't managed to steal a second of sleep. Thank God, it was spring break. Annabeth didn't know how she'd have survived school on this particular morning.</p><p>In her pocket, her phone buzzed. She slid it out, turning onto her stomach to open it. An Instagram notification from Piper popped up on her lock screen. She pressed on it and was immediately greeted by a post Piper had sent. White text glared from a dark screen, screaming <em>Nerve Has Arrived In New York</em>! Beneath the words, there was a subtitle that read <em>Are you a player or a watcher?</em></p><p>Piper had sent a message immediately after it. <em>M</em><em>eet me and Jason at Nino's diner by five, everyone's fucking doing this thing!</em></p><p>Annabeth typed out a reply. <em>What even is it?</em></p><p>Piper responded instantly. <em>An online dare game. You sign up and people can watch you complete dares on a livestream. Every time you complete a dare, you win money. People get famous through this shit, annabeth! Also don't forget to come to Ninos xx</em></p><p>Annabeth sighed, and responded <em>fine, I'll be there</em> before chucking her phone down on her bed. So much for staying in and relaxing.</p><p>A few hours later, Annabeth finally finished her coursework for the day. She'd spent hours in the studio in order to finish some sketches that were due in for the next week, and Annabeth was glad she'd put in the effort. She hated leaving work hanging over her head.</p><p>Annabeth stood in the bathroom before the mirror. She was running argan oil through her unruly curls, trying to tame them before she had to head out in fifteen minutes—Piper had just texted to let her know her, Jason and Leo were meeting at Nino's diner at five.</p><p>Satisfied, she washed her hands and quickly applied a little concealer to her face to hide the dark half-moons that stood stark under her eyes—they were a by-product of insomnia and too many late nights. Finally, Annabeth swiped a little mascara onto her lashes to bring some life and contrast back to her face, leaning close enough to the mirror that her breath steamed on the reflective glass. Capping the mascara, Annabeth stepped back. She exhaled heavily, head feeling sluggish. It wasn't late, but sleep threatened to swallow her up anyway. School life did that to you.</p><p>Annabeth poked her head around the kitchen door before she left, calling, "Helen! I'm heading out!"</p><p>Her stepmother hadn't heard; she was asleep at the kitchen table, slumped forward in her chair. Vacancy hovered in the smooth, mild lines of her face that were usually all screwed up with anxiety and grief. Annabeth didn't want to wake her. Instead, she silently eased the half-empty whiskey bottle out of her absent grasp and left a note on the table in front of her. <em>Gone out. I'll be back soon. </em>With any luck, when Helen woke up she'd just take some aspirin and stumble into bed before Annabeth even got home.</p><p>Pulling on a jacket, Annabeth grabbed her keys and stepped out the door, earphones already in. She pressed play on a Spotify playlist and buried her hands into her pockets. New York was always cold in the spring, no matter how promising the forecast was. As she exhaled, a cloud of paper-white steam rushed from her chilled lips. At least it wasn't raining.</p>
<hr/><p>Three songs later, Annabeth was halfway to the diner. She looked up from her phone to cross the road, watching and waiting for the traffic light to flicker green. A sudden, jarring shout echoed from across the road, followed by a thump and a round of riotous laughter. A group of teenage boys were crowded around one of the traffic lights, yelling and jeering. A guy from their group was attempting to scale the pole, pulling himself up little by little. Annabeth crossed the road and approached, footsteps halting. She was curious.</p><p>Up close, Annabeth could see the guy more clearly. His hair was a mess—unkempt and raven-black—and he was panting with every new inch he gained on the pole. Someone below him jumped up, trying to grab his foot and dislodge him. They missed by an inch. The guy on the pole cursed, fighting to regain his grip. "Fuck off, I'm trying to concentrate!"</p><p>At that, everyone laughed. "You only got a minute left, Jackson," someone sneered. Cruelty dripped through their words, rancid yet sickly sweet. "Better be quick." With a start, Annabeth realised she recognised Jackson. Last year, he'd been in a few of her classes before eventually moving schools. Almost every time she'd seen him, he'd had bruises on his face or on his arms—of course, he always went around picking fights.</p><p>Jackson didn't reply. At last, he made it to the top of the traffic light pole. He quickly slapped the side of a bulb to show he'd made it, then jumped down. He landed haphazardly, grunting. Immediately the small crowd of guys around him surged forward, clapping him on the back. Someone handed Jackson his phone. He pocketed it, thanking them. Annabeth realised they'd been filming the whole thing.</p><p>She walked faster as she passed them, hoping to avoid any attention. Still, her gaze caught on Jackson's face—only for a second, but enough time for her to notice the harsh, indigo bruise that lay on his jutting cheekbone.</p><p>Then he looked at her, and she forgot everything she'd just been thinking. His eyes seared her vision; his gaze was a searchlight, bottle-green and blinding, blinding, blinding. Something shuddered inside her, stopped, then restarted when he looked away again.</p><p>The moment had been so fast, so fleeting that Annabeth wondered if it had even happened. She shook her head, pressed play on another song, and high-tailed it towards Nino's.</p><p>Annabeth approached the diner, pulling her earphones out and slipping her phone into her back pocket. The doors were wide open, letting light spill out onto the road. Above them, a sign reading <em>Nino's Diner</em> in bright, swirling neon glowed hazily in the dark evening. She walked in and warmth immediately rushed through her, buzzing all the way down to her blueish fingertips.</p><p>"Annabeth!" someone yelled. "Over here." Annabeth pivoted to see Piper, Jason and Leo sitting in a booth toward the back of the diner, enjoying some milkshakes. Leo waved her over, grinning.</p><p>As Annabeth approached, Piper scooted over to let Annabeth sit down. "Well, if it isn't the Ice Queen," Piper said, eyes glinting with humour. The scent of cinnamon washed over Annabeth—her friend's perfume was still as strong as ever.</p><p>Rolling her eyes, Annabeth reached for Piper's caramel milkshake. "Shut up, McLean." Taking a slurp of the drink, she made a face. "God, why do you always order that monstrosity with so much syrup? It tastes like roadkill."</p><p>Jason laughed, slinging an arm over Piper's shoulder as she pouted. "Don't take it personally, love." He kissed her cheek and whispered something in her ear, making her swat him away, laughing.</p><p>Leo stuck two fingers in his mouth and mimed a gagging motion. "You two are gonna make me throw up. I swear, it's nearly two months into your relationship and you're both still stuck in the goddamn honeymoon phase." He gripped Annabeth's arm, eyes pleading. "Chase, don't leave me alone with them. Please."</p><p>Annabeth pushed him off with a laugh. "Quit being dramatic. Just 'cause you're destined to die a lonely hermit—"</p><p>"Slander. Lies and slander."</p><p>Just then, a notification went off on someone's phone. Piper eagerly picked up her phone. Grinning, she showed the screen to Jason. "Look! I've got another one."</p><p>Jason took the phone off her, reading whatever was on the screen. "Oh, no. Pipes, don't."</p><p>Piper grabbed her phone back and handed it to Leo. "You. Film."</p><p>Leo sighed, but did so, holding it up so Piper was in frame. Annabeth nudged him, a little confused. "What's going on?"</p><p>"Piper's doing another one of those dares. You know, she's playing Nerve? I thought she told you about it."</p><p>"Oh, Nerve? That city-wide dare game? I thought that was fake!"</p><p>Leo laughed, smile crooked. "Nope. Anyway, the dare's to do a strip tease. Look." He showed Annabeth Piper's phone screen, which was flashing with a neon dare: <em>Perform a strip tease</em>. In the corner, there was a box that read<em> 864 Watchers and Rising!</em> The number kept changing, flickering higher and higher every second. There was even a chat feed in the corner where Piper's Watchers were talking, telling Piper to get on with the dare already and kept suggesting new ones.</p><p>Jason stood up with Piper, rolling his shoulders. "If you're doing it, I'm doing it."</p><p>Piper groaned. "Jason—"</p><p>"Nah, babe. If you want to embarrass the fuck out of yourself, I'm doing it with you." He turned to Annabeth and nodded at the jukebox standing next to her. "Put something good on, Beth."</p><p>Appalled but still a little interested, Annabeth dug in the pockets of her jeans and produced a quarter. She got up and pushed the quarter into the old machine, scanning the rows of songs on the jukebox. Musing, she ran a finger down the selections until finally landing on one: <em>Me &amp; Mr. Jones</em> by Amy Winehouse. Perfect.</p><p>The song began. Leo clapped and whooped as Piper and Jason ran out into the middle of the diner, giggling, hands intertwined. Jason climbed up onto a table and offered a hand to Piper, pulling her up. He gave her a spin, yelling, "Minors, you might wanna look away!"</p><p>As Piper and Jason danced on the table-top, hands loosely clasped together, the dulcet tones of Amy Winehouse's voice drifted through Nino's Diner<em>. </em>People turned around, some scandalised and some smiling. Many clapped along to the music. Annabeth joined them, hoping her friends wouldn't be fined for public indecency.</p><p>Jason gave Piper a spin, nearly sending her tumbling off the table. Righting herself, Piper slid off her jacket, winking cheekily over her shoulder in an attempt at being somewhat risqué. Jason fanned himself, mouthing along to the song: <em>What kind of fuckery is this? </em>He began to unbutton his shirt, moving his hips to the rhythm of the music. Piper ran her hand down his chest, faking a swoon.</p><p>At that, Annabeth stifled a laugh, sharing a dry look with Leo. He was still holding up Piper's phone to film the dare, and the number of Watchers viewing Piper was steadily increasing faster and faster—it looked like she was getting popular.</p><p>Now, Jason was without a shirt and Piper was undoing hers, dancing lewdly to the song. A rosy blush stained both of their cheeks, a tell-tale sign of their embarrassment, but they continued anyway. As the song finished, Piper pulled off her shirt and flipped off the camera only in her bra while taking a bow, receiving raucous, good-willed applause from their audience in the diner. Jason hopped down from the tabletop, fishing their clothes off the floor.</p><p>Immediately, a <em>ding</em> came from Piper's phone. A notification flashed, reading <em>Dare Complete. $96 has been added to your bank account. </em>Annabeth frowned at the sight of it—that couldn't be real, right?</p><p>Re-dressing, Piper and Jason slid back into the booth. Jason heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I was scared they'd kick us out the whole time."</p><p>Leo smirked. "Maybe some of the staff know about Nerve. I wouldn't be surprised—look how many Watchers you gained." He passed Piper her phone back, showing her the screen.</p><p>Piper took it, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Fucking hell. I won nearly a hundred bucks, too."</p><p>"You're not serious." Jason leaned around to catch a glimpse of her phone. At the sight of it, he shook his head in awe. "Who's funding this game?"</p><p>"Watchers," Leo replied. "Wealthy ones in particular. You know, there's money to be made from investing in this sort of thing." He took a long, repulsive slurp from his banana milkshake. "It's corrupted as fuck and most likely mafia-run, but Nerve's untraceable so nothing could ever be proven—and that's if anyone actually cared enough to look into it."</p><p>"Who cares?" Piper said. "It's fun and you can win a ton of money."</p><p>Jason shrugged. "I guess. Still, be careful, yeah? Don't do a dare if it seems dangerous. I heard a Player died last year during Nerve in Virginia. Fell off a bridge or something."</p><p>Piper snuggled into his shoulder. "Don't worry, babe. I'm not gonna do anything stupid."</p><p>Jason murmured a quiet <em>I know </em>and kissed the top of Piper's head. God, they were so cute together it made Annabeth's heart ache.</p><p>Leo turned to Annabeth, propping his chin up on his hand. "So, Beth. You planning on playing Nerve?"</p><p>Annabeth gave a sour laugh. "Oh, no. Absolutely not."</p><p>"Why not?" Piper asked. "You can gain, like, eight hundred more followers on Instagram. And," her voice dropped. "I know you could do with the money, Annabeth—"</p><p>Annabeth's jaw clenched. "No," she gritted out.</p><p>Piper was silent for a moment. "You know, you don't have to be so afraid all the time. It could help!"</p><p>Piper's words resounded inside her like a bone-crunching drum, stripping Annabeth down to nothing. "I'm not afraid," Annabeth said carefully, pronouncing every syllable like she thought she'd mess them up. Still, she could feel herself being persuaded—persuaded by the fantasy of winning dare after dare, maybe making enough money to go to one of the Ivy League colleges she wanted so badly. Stanford, or maybe Yale.</p><p>And God knew Helen could do with the money—she hadn't worked in months, and the life insurance money they'd collected when Annabeth's dad had died was beginning to dwindle.</p><p>Jason let go of Piper and reached for his milkshake. "Don't worry about it, Annabeth. Not everyone has to be cut out for this shit."</p><p>At that, Annabeth simmered quietly. She was stronger than they knew she was. Who were they to say what she could or couldn't do? Also, winning even just a couple hundred bucks could feed her and Helen for a month.</p><p>Gritting her teeth, Annabeth slid her phone out of her pocket. "Fine. I'll do it." When she opened her phone and pressed on Instagram, the choice still glimmered before her: <em>Are you a PLAYER or a WATCHER? </em>Refusing to allow her hands to shake, she clicked on <em>PLAYER. </em>Immediately, the Nerve app began to download on her phone. She opened it and pressed <em>Yes </em>on <em>Allow access to Camera and Microphone?</em></p><p>Suddenly, Nerve was filming. Piper whooped. "Yes, Annie!" Her feed was trained on her own face. Annabeth swore silently. What the fuck was she getting herself into?</p><p>The chat box loaded in the corner of the screen. People were already joining her live feed and commenting shit like <em>hey beautiful </em>or <em>C'mon, do a dare!</em> Her Watcher count slowly rose as more and more people came across her stream. Annabeth swallowed her fear. She could do this.</p><p>It wasn't long before Annabeth's phone pinged, alerting them to her first dare. Leo leant around to look at Annabeth's phone screen. "What does it say?" he asked.</p><p>"<em>Make out with a stranger,</em>" Annabeth read. God, she wasn't cut out for this. Why had she let the others pressure her into joining the game?</p><p>A sly grin crawled across Piper's face. She turned to look around the diner, gaze evaluative. "So, who are you gonna pick? That old guy over there?"</p><p>Annabeth shuddered. "No way."</p><p>Jason laughed. "Come on, choose faster. The timer's going down." True to his word, a timer had appeared on Annabeth's phone screen, counting down from a minute.</p><p>"Oh." Annabeth stood up, casting her gaze around the diner. She didn't know who to pick—the waiter? The old man? A wave of revulsion crashed through her just thinking about it.</p><p>"Hey, Beth." Leo was nudging her arm. "What about him? That guy over there, in the leather jacket."</p><p>Annabeth looked where he was pointed, and immediately her jaw dropped in startling recognition. It was Jackson—the guy she'd seen earlier climbing the traffic light. He was sitting in a booth across the other side of the diner, feet propped up on the table. To Annabeth's surprise, he was reading a book: <em>Watership Down. </em>It was one of Annabeth's childhood favourites.</p><p>"Thirty seconds left," Leo reminded her. He was filming the dare. "Go, go, go!"</p><p>"Fuck it," Annabeth muttered. She got up, walking quickly across the diner. Jackson didn't look up as she approached, clearly still absorbed in his book. A few strands of raven hair were hanging over his eyes, casting shadow over the purplish bruise on his cheek. For a second, the fleeting desire to brush the hair away crossed her mind, but Annabeth quickly regained her grip on reality. "Hey," she said, because you had to at least try to start a conversation with the stranger you were about to kiss, right?</p><p>Jackson looked up from his book, and Annabeth thought she might lose her breath. Green eyes met her own—they were so dark and dusky they were almost blue. His mouth quirked in a smile, and he looked for all the world like he'd been expecting her. "Oh, hey."</p><p>Annabeth struggled to speak, her mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Finally, she forced out, "So, how're you liking the book?"</p><p>He laughed. "Um. It's good—a little dark, though. Have you read it before?"</p><p>Annabeth nodded, fidgeting with her sleeve. She knew she didn't have much time. Instead of waiting any longer, she disregarded every ounce of sense in her body and leaned forward. Knotting her fingers in his jacket, she leaned down. "Sorry about this," she mumbled, and then she pressed her lips to his.</p><p>To her surprise, Jackson kissed her back, his hand reaching up to her cheek. Time slowed down. Seconds were days, were hours, were the breaths that caught between their mouths and the brush of fingertips on her cheek. His lips were chapped and brittle, but Annabeth didn't mind.</p><p>Too soon, they broke apart. Jackson's breathing was a little fast, and he seemed at a loss for words. "Wow," he managed. "You're a good kisser."</p><p>Annabeth didn't feel like letting him know that he was the first person she'd ever kissed. "Sorry, again," she said, cursing how clumsy the words sounded in her mouth. She turned to walk away, cheeks alight with fiery heat, but was stopped by Jackson grabbing her sleeve.</p><p>"Hold on," he said. "You've gotta tell me your name."</p><p>A laugh bubbled up from between her lips. It seemed like the kiss was only just catching up with her. "I'm Annabeth."</p><p>"Percy." He offered his hand in mock greeting and Annabeth shook it with a smile.</p><p>Suddenly, a notification sounded, and Percy took his phone out, checking the screen. He laughs, cocking a brow. "Alright, then." He hands me his phone. "Film for me?"</p><p>Annabeth took his phone, rolling her eyes. The dare was <em>Perform a song for her. </em>Annabeth held up the phone so Percy was in the shot, stifling a laugh. "Don't embarrass yourself."</p><p>Percy winked, blowing the camera a kiss. "I won't." He stepped up onto the table, just like Piper and Jason had. He clapped his hands, drawing the attention of the rest of the diner. Then he pointed at Annabeth, all show-business. "Tell me the first song that pops into your head," he told her.</p><p>Annabeth folded her arms. "<em>Suffragette City</em>," she replied—from the <em>Ziggy Stardust </em>record she'd been listening to earlier.</p><p>Percy nodded. "I know the one." Not a second later, he plunged in and started singing. And, God, his voice was something awful. Still, he somehow retained his charm and his smile was bright, never forced. He stumbled through the song, utterly butchering Bowie's masterpiece. At some point, the whole diner started clapping along, laughing and whooping at Percy's antics.</p><p>As Percy neared the end of the song, he leapt down from the table and walked confidently up to the bar surface, leaning forward to pluck a beautiful, pastel yellow flower from a vase—a chrysanthemum. He finished the song, only just maintaining his dignity, and knelt before Annabeth. "Thank you," he smiled, offering her the flower. His eyes were deeply green in the warm light and full of humour.</p><p>Annabeth took the yellow chrysanthemum, pulse stuttering when his calloused fingers brushed hers. He pressed a feather-light kiss to her cheek as he stood up again, lips curving in a smile.</p><p>Heat rose to Annabeth's face, but she didn't let it show. Rolling her eyes, she smirked up at Percy. "Well, aren't you a gentleman?"</p><p>He laughed in response. "Guess my mom raised me right after all." He opened his mouth to say something more but was interrupted by the sound of two notifications sounding in quick succession. Annabeth pulled out her phone to see a new dare—it simply said <em>Go with him.</em> Nothing else.</p><p>Percy was checking his phone too, and turned it around to show the screen to Annabeth. He'd gotten a dare too—<em>Take her to the city. </em>Running a hand through his messy hair, he smiled self-consciously. "So, what's the verdict?"</p><p>Annabeth glanced down at her dare again, wondering what the hell she was getting herself into. "Swear you're not an axe murderer?"</p><p>Percy slid his phone back into his pocket, offering Annabeth a hand. "I swear I'm not an axe murderer," he said, all solemnity. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."</p><p>Annabeth took his hand after a moment of hesitation. He pulled Annabeth to her feet, bringing her close to his chest. "Well, I guess we'd better get going."</p><p>Percy's smile was infectious, all mischief. "I guess we should."</p>
<hr/><p>Percy led Annabeth outside by her sleeve, eyes alight with excitement. They walked up to Percy's tatty, silver motorbike. There were two helmets sitting on the seat, rather than one—probably the work of a Watcher.</p><p>Straddling the seat, Percy slid on his helmet. Annabeth went to get on, then hesitated. "Is this thing safe?"</p><p>Percy laughed. "Safe as life. C'mon, don't be afraid." He passed her a helmet and patted the seat behind him. "Just hold onto me. I won't let you fall."</p><p>"God. Okay." Annabeth got onto the bike, exhaling a sharp breath to release her nerves. Carefully, she slotted her arms around his waist. He was warm and smelled slightly of chlorine. Annabeth wondered if he was a swimmer.</p><p>Percy glanced back, grinning. "Ready? You might want to hold on a little tighter than that." Without warning, he stepped onto the accelerator.</p><p>Annabeth screamed as they lurched forward. Tightening her arms around him, she buried her face into his spine, unwilling to even look up. "We're gonna fucking die, aren't we?" she muttered.</p><p>They flew towards the main city, heading towards the Manhattan bridge. It didn't take long for Annabeth to get over her fear. Soon enough, a feeling of elation started to bubble through her veins. The break-neck speed, the wind whistling in her ears and Percy's solid reassuring warmth was utter sensory overload of the best kind. As they reached the bridge, Annabeth raised her arms up and whooped.</p><p>The pair were bathed in rich, golden light from the car's headlights around them. Annabeth slipped her arms around Percy again and had the stupid, fleeting thought that she never wanted to let go.</p><p>Twenty minutes later, they screeched to a stop outside the department store they'd been instructed to head to. Annabeth stumbled off the bike. She felt a little lightheaded, but mostly in a good way. "That was insane."</p><p>Percy laughed, nodding in agreement. "Do you want to hear a secret?"</p><p>"A secret? Sure."</p><p>He leaned in close, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I only learnt how to ride that thing today."</p><p>"<em>What?</em>"</p><p>Luckily, both their phones pinged, signalling the arrival of a new dare, before Annabeth could even begin to tear into him. Shooting Percy a dirty look, Annabeth pulled her phone out. The dare was to <em>Try on this dress, </em>followed by an image of a gorgeous, skin-tight grey dress. There was a timer set to ten minutes in the corner. The chat was going crazy as more and more Watchers joined Annabeth's feed.</p><p>Percy had received the same dare, except he had to try on a suit. They both pressed <em>Accept Dare. </em>Percy offered Annabeth his hand. "Shall we?"</p><p>Annabeth smiled. "Why not?" she said, accepting his outstretched palm. His hand was a mess of callouses but still felt like a spark of warmth against her numb fingers. Together, they ran towards the store's open doors.</p><p>Once inside the store, Percy dragged Annabeth towards the elevator. "This way!"</p><p>As they weaved in and out of clothes racks, Annabeth narrowly avoided knocking into several unwitting shoppers. "Sorry!" she yelled, wincing.</p><p>"It doesn't matter. We don't have much time!"</p><p>They made it to the elevator, skidding to a stop in front of the closed bronze doors. Percy jabbed the <em>UP </em>button a ridiculous number of times, mumbling, "Come on, come on." Thankfully, the elevator didn't take long. A few moments later, the doors slid open. Annabeth stepped quickly inside, followed by Percy. "Top floor," he said, and Annabeth pressed the corresponding button. The doors closed with a satisfying clunk.</p><p>The journey up was a nerve-racking one. Annabeth fidgeted with her sleeve, adrenaline pumping through her but without an outlet. As though he could sense her anxiety, Percy brushed his hand against hers. "We can do this."</p><p>Once they hit the top floor, Annabeth suggested they split up. "We'll find the clothes faster that way."</p><p>Percy nodded. "Meet at the changing rooms, yeah?" He headed off into the opposite direction, leaving Annabeth alone.</p><p>Annabeth scoured the racks, eyes jumping from one expensive, sequinned monstrosity to the next. No luck. She walked up to a store clerk, who fixed her with a blinding smile. "How can I help you, miss?" Annabeth showed him the photo of the dress, and he nodded. "I believe I know where to find that one." He guided her to the other side of the floor, where the prices rose higher and higher. Annabeth's breath snagged in her throat whenever she caught a glimpse of a price tag.</p><p>Finally, the clerk found her the correct dress. "This it, miss?"</p><p>Annabeth nodded, albeit hesitantly. "Yes, thank you." The clerk got it down for her, folding the dress and placing it in her arms. It was soft, shimmery satin and stank of wealth. Annabeth was pretty sure she could buy half-carat diamond earrings with the money this thing cost.</p><p>Quickly, she hurried over to the changing rooms. The timer on her phone was ticking down; they had three minutes remaining. She bumped into Percy, who was carrying a gorgeous black suit. He offered her a lopsided grin, and they stepped into opposite changing rooms.</p><p>Annabeth drew the curtain shut and placed her phone down on the seat beside her. Some of the comments were becoming lewd. Annabeth turned away from the camera as the timer ticked lower and lower, pulling her clothes off. <em>Fuck, fuck, fuck.</em> It didn't matter—all they could see was her back, right?</p><p>She stepped carefully into the dress, afraid that the flimsy material might tear. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever worn and fitted like a sleeve. As she adjusted the straps, Annabeth's gaze flickered to herself in the mirror. The dress was an understated, pearly grey, setting off her eyes. The neckline fell in a V-shape, dipping down to her sternum, and the dress was fucking backless<em>. </em>Annabeth didn't want to like it, but she did.</p><p>As she opened the curtain again, her phone dinged with a new notification: <em>Dare Complete. $500 has been transferred to your account. </em>Annabeth stared at it, caught in a haze of euphoria. God, she'd never had this much money.</p><p>Percy had already gotten changed, and he waited outside the changing rooms. His back was turned to her as he adjusted his cufflink awkwardly. "Hey," Annabeth said, to catch his attention.</p><p>Percy spun around, and his jaw dropped. "Wow," he managed, then laughed in disbelief. "You look great, Annabeth."</p><p>"You're not so bad yourself." His suit was gorgeously fitted, snug around his shoulders and arms, tapering perfectly down to his waist. The black, sleek material tapered perfectly down to his waist, matching his raven hair. His eyes caught Annabeth off guard. Their green colour was suddenly brighter, more emphasised. They seared Annabeth to her veins.</p><p>Annabeth noticed one of Percy's cufflinks still wasn't attached right so she stepped forward, reaching out. "Here, give me your arm."</p><p>He did. Annabeth fixed the cufflink, cheeks burning. Her heart threatened to hammer out her ribcage, it was beating so fast. She looked up, and Percy was still looking at her. Neither of them could look away.</p><p>Out of nowhere, their phones pinged. Another dare had arrived. They took their phones out, and both of their dares were the same. <em>Leave the store. </em>Another timer popped up—ten minutes. Annabeth clicked <em>Accept.</em></p><p>"Time to go," Percy said.</p><p>She headed back to her changing room. Pulling open the curtain, she blanched. Her clothes were gone. "Percy?" she called, uncertain. "Do you have your clothes?" She ran back out, only to find Percy just as confused as she was.</p><p>"I don't have mine either," he said. He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Fucking Watchers. I'm not stealing this suit."</p><p>Annabeth was silent for a moment, thoughts whirring like clockwork. Finally, she said, "Take it off."</p><p>"<em>What?"</em></p><p>"Take it off, I'm serious. If we're caught, we'll get in less trouble for public indecency than for theft."</p><p>Percy cocked a brow. "Sure this isn't just a ploy to get me naked?"</p><p>Annabeth huffed. "Do what you want. I'm not getting fucking arrested." Steeling herself, she stepped out of the dress. She tried not to think about the fact she was only in her bra and underwear. <em>Look on the bright side, </em>she told herself: at least she'd worn a matching pair today.</p><p>Eventually, Percy gave in. He started to strip out of his suit. He was avoiding looking at Annabeth, and a rose-colour blush tinted the tips of his ears. "You'll be the death of me," he mumbled.</p><p>Annabeth ignored him. "Come on," she said. She checked her phone. "We only have seven minutes to get out the store." Finally, the suit was off. Annabeth tried not to let her eyes wander—Percy was a landscape of bronze skin and the occasional flourishing bruise, matching in colour to the one on his face. For the first time, she noticed the small, silver cross necklace resting just below the notch of his neck. It glinted in the artificial light. Annabeth wondered if Percy was religious. Face alight with heat, Annabeth grabbed his wrist. "Let's go," she said, and they hurried towards the elevator.</p><p>When it reached the bottom floor, they burst out of it, laughing deliriously with a healthy amount of embarrassment. Hands linked, they sprinted through the store, swerving to avoid the labyrinthine clothes racks. Angry yells followed them from staff and offended customers alike, but Annabeth didn't care. Something about the whole incident was some of the most fun she'd ever had in her life—or maybe the elation just came from holding Percy's hand.</p><p>"Hey! Stop!" A security guard had spotted them and was taking chase from across the store. As he gained ground, Percy shoved into a few racks of clothes, knocking them into his path. Annabeth laughed in elation, sparing a glance behind her at the disgruntled security guard who was desperately trying to get up from underneath a pile of clothes.</p><p>The door was in sight. Hands still linked, they crashed through the doors. A wave of freezing night air immediately washed over them, a shock of cold on Annabeth's bare skin. Percy dragged her around the corner to avoid the security guards that were no doubt still after them, pulling her into the shadows.</p><p>Laughing in relief, Annabeth rested her forehead on Percy's shoulder, overcome with adrenaline and fear and pounding excitement. "God, that was insane. Did you see his face?" She kissed his cheek, caught up in the moment. Percy nodded, still smiling back at her. He shook his head, seemingly at a loss for words.</p><p>In Annabeth's hand, her phone dinged with a new notification. <em>Dare Complete</em> flashed on her phone screen, followed by another notification: <em>£245 has been added to your account. </em>Percy held up his own phone, showing the same reward on his. He leant back against the wall, laying his head back on the concrete. Breathing still heavy, he closed his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back and out of his face. He let out a sudden laugh, then said, "I can't fucking believe we just did that."</p><p>Annabeth tangled their fingers a little tighter together, exhaling a puff of pale air. "Neither can I."</p><p>They headed back to Percy's bike, shivering. Percy's lips were beginning to turn blue in the winter air, and Annabeth's hands were white as paper. When Annabeth saw the bike, however, she stopped in her tracks. "Is that…?" Draped over the bike's seat was Percy's suit and Annabeth's dress, folded up neatly. Annabeth ran to the bike and touched the dress in reverence. She shook her head, withdrawing. "We can't wear them if they're stolen."</p><p>Percy picked up his suit. A sheet of paper fell out—a receipt, for both outfits. A smile stretched across his face, and he raised a brow. "We need clothes, don't we?"</p><p>"Who do you think bought them?" Annabeth asked.</p><p>Percy shrugged. "Dunno. Watchers, I guess. I mean, they seem to like us together." He raised his phone, emphasising the high number of Watchers that ticked up steadily in the corner. The chat was going crazy as more and more support poured in.</p><p>Annabeth changed quickly, slipping into the dress. It fit snugly but didn't offer much protection from the cold—after all, it was open at the back. Not exactly a warm outfit. She shivered again, wishing she had a sweater.</p><p>Percy's gaze tracked her, flickering down to the goosebumps on her arms. He held up the suit jacket, having not put it on yet. "Hey, you wanna wear this?"</p><p>Annabeth hesitated. She wanted it so badly, but… "Won't you be cold?"</p><p>Percy grinned. "Nah, I'm good. Just take it."</p><p>Annabeth obliged. She put it on, and a heavy, relieved sigh slipped out of her. Immediately, warmth was beginning to seep back into her skin. "Thanks, Percy."</p><p>Still, the jacket was way too big for her. The jacket's sleeves flopped past her hands, swallowing her up. Percy stifled a laugh, stepping forward. He helped her roll them up, ignoring her protests. "There," he said with a smile. "Much better."</p><p>Annabeth shot a wry glance at him, pulling the jacket tighter around herself for warmth. "Yeah, yeah. You must think you're a real charmer."</p><p>Percy smirked. "Oh, trust me. I am." He slid an arm over Annabeth, tugging her to him. Gratefully, she leaned into his warmth. Thank God, the chattering of her teeth was finally beginning to subside.</p><p>They were silent for a few moments, watching the roaring road. Cars sped by so quickly they were nothing but a blur of light in the dark, leaving a rush of hot air in their wake. Suddenly, Percy spoke up again. "Annabeth?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"What would you think of maybe, uh…" He shifted, uncertain. "Of partnering up? Until the final? It seems like the Watchers like us together." He smiled, teeth bright in the dark. "And, you know, you make this shit a <em>lot </em>more fun."</p><p>Annabeth didn't even hesitate. "Sure, let's do it," she replied.</p><p>Percy mouthed <em>Yes</em>, pumping his fist. Laughing, he grabbed Annabeth's hand again and spun her around, causing her to stumble. "This is gonna be so fucking fun."</p><p>Annabeth righted herself, rolling her eyes. "Well, someone's got to show me the ropes."</p><p>"Oh, you don't need my help. Let's be honest, I'm the one leeching off you."</p><p>Just then, their phones dinged—another dare. Annabeth slid hers out, opening it. The dare was <em>Go to this address, </em>followed by directions. Annabeth gaped at it. "Is that a fucking tattoo parlour?"</p><p>Percy's eyes glinted. Smiling, he gestured to the bike. "Ladies first."</p><p>Annabeth sighed heavily, but clambered onto the bike. Percy got on after her, and she quickly latched her arms around his middle. "Slower this time, yeah?"</p><p>Percy winked. "Can't promise anything." With that, he stepped down on the accelerator and they sped off into the darkness.</p>
<hr/><p>The tattoo parlour was only five minutes away, so it didn't take long before Annabeth and Percy were pulling up outside. Annabeth stepped off the motorbike, carding her fingers through her helmet hair. Percy slid off his helmet too and hung it on one of the bike handles.</p><p>Up ahead, the tattoo parlour glowed faintly crimson in the darkness. A neon sign hanging in the window read <em>Open, </em>and the faint murmur of voices could be heard inside. Percy offered Annabeth his elbow like a gentleman. "Shall we?"</p><p>Annabeth smiled, taking it.</p><p>They pushed through the glass doors, chatting to each other. Immediately a rush of warmth greeted them. Inside the parlour, dozens of piercing chairs lined the walls. An old bar surface was covered in photos of past customers sporting fresh ink on their arms, their necks, their backs. Salt lamps were arrayed on wooden shelves adorning the walls, along with other decorations.</p><p>Suddenly, Annabeth's phone dinged. Annabeth didn't want to see what it was, but she checked it anyway. Upon seeing it, she groaned. "Fuck," she said, with more than a little feeling. A new dare: <em>Let him choose your tattoo. </em>She showed the screen to Percy, who grinned. Mischief danced in his eyes.</p><p>One of the staff members walked up to them, putting her hair back in a bun. She was covered in piercings—her septum, her brow, her ears. There was even a metal rod in her lower lip. "How can I help you guys?" she asked. When she spoke, the stud in her tongue glinted silver.</p><p>Percy stepped forward. "I'm choosing her a tattoo. Can it be a surprise?"</p><p>The girl laughed. "Sure. Come sit over here, love." She gestured for Annabeth to go sit in one of the tattoo chairs. "Get comfortable. I'll be right back. Just gotta talk designs with your boyfriend." She walked off to where Percy sat at the bar surface. He was drawing something on a sketch pad, but Annabeth couldn't see what. A moment later, he showed the design to the girl. She nodded and took the sketchpad, then disappeared off into the staff room.</p><p>Percy came over to where Annabeth was lying. He sat down in the chair beside her, resting his chin on his fist. "So, Beth. How're you feeling about this?"</p><p>Annabeth laughed, dry as sandpaper. "I'm fucking scared. You better not have picked anything rude."</p><p>"Don't worry. I think you're gonna like it." Percy fiddled with his shirt sleeve, rolling and unrolling it. The crisp, pale cotton was a perfect juxtaposition against his bronze skin. He looked up at her again, eyes so green in the light that it was almost jarring. "Where are you going to get it?"</p><p>"What, the tattoo?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>Annabeth hummed, considering. "I don't know. Where do you think is best?" Percy tilted his head, grinning, and Annabeth could tell he was about to say something crude. "Oh, shut up."</p><p>"Sorry, sorry." He started to bounce his knee, a constant force of motion. "Maybe your back? You know, just on your shoulder blade."</p><p>Annabeth leant back, staring at the ceiling. "I guess it'd at least be hidden, then." She turned her head in Percy's direction. "Have you got any tattoos?"</p><p>Percy nodded, leaning forward against the recliner. "Yeah, one. It's on my collarbone."</p><p>"Really? What is it?"</p><p>"Uh..." He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt in order to stretch the fabric so he could show his shoulder. Sitting just above his collarbone were the words <em>be good tomorrow. </em>They were written in careful, black sans serif.</p><p>Without even meaning to, Annabeth reached out to trace the letters. "What's the story behind it?"</p><p>Percy scrubbed a hand through his hair. His eyes wouldn't meet Annabeth's. "Well, I had a friend who I'd drink with a lot of the time. We both had a lot of shit going on at home, so going out and being stupid was kind of a coping mechanism we shared. Every time we went out and got pissed, we'd just laugh and say something like <em>It's fine, we'll be good tomorrow.</em> Anyway, she died a few months ago. I wanted something permanent to remember her by."</p><p>Annabeth's hand fell away from the tattoo. She wanted to stop Percy hurting any way she could, but what happened in his head wasn't under her jurisdiction. "I'm sorry you lost her. It's beautiful, though."</p><p>Percy half-smiled. "Thanks."</p><p>The girl was coming back over, holding a box full of equipment. She set it down and took out its contents—her tattoo guns and inks. She sat down beside Annabeth, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "So, blondie. Where do you want it?"</p><p>Annabeth swallowed. "Uh—my back. My shoulder blade."</p><p>"Alright, turn over. This should only take twenty minutes."</p><p>She did, tugging down one sleeve of her dress to expose her shoulder blade. The tattoo artist wiped down her skin with antiseptic, then went in with a pen. A few minutes later, when she seemed happy with it, she asked Percy his opinion.</p><p>"Yeah. Looks good."</p><p>"Okay. You ready for us to get started?" She picked up a tattoo gun, screwing a bottle of ink into its holder.</p><p>Annabeth nodded, but she couldn't relax. When the gun started whirring, she screwed her eyes tight. She knew the fear was irrational but she was still afraid.</p><p>Percy took her hand, holding it tight. He was filming the dare with his other hand so their Watchers could see. "Stay calm. It'll hurt more if you're tense, yeah?"</p><p>A moment later, the needle was pressing into her skin. "Fuck, fuck…" Annabeth exhaled, holding tighter onto Percy's hand. The sensation wasn't too bad, if she was completely honest. It hurt, yeah, but was more of a dull pain than the sharp kind that she'd been expecting. It only took a minute longer before the pain was completely tolerable.</p><p>"So," the girl said, as she worked. "Why'd you let him pick out your tattoo?"</p><p>Annabeth sighed. "For a dare. Hopefully he hasn't fucked me over."</p><p>The girl laughed in reply. "I wouldn't worry. Your boyfriend's a pretty good artist." Annabeth didn't bother correcting her, only smiled shyly into the chair's headrest.</p><p>Half an hour later, the whirring gun stopped. Annabeth's shoulder ached, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. "Are we done?" Annabeth asked.</p><p>"Yep. Just let me clean it up, then you can take a look." Annabeth waited while she carefully wiped down her shoulder, ensuring that the wound was completely clean. "Alright. You wanna see?"</p><p>Annabeth sat up carefully, holding up her dress. The girl guided her to a mirror hanging on the wall. When Annabeth saw it, the breath escaped from her lungs. "God, it's beautiful."</p><p>The tattoo artist had done a monochrome flower. It had half-wilting leaves and strange, abstract shading. Percy came over to look. "It's a chrysanthemum," he said.</p><p>Annabeth nodded slowly. "Like the flower you gave me in the diner."</p><p>Percy laughed. "Yeah. I wondered if you'd notice."</p><p>Annabeth turned around, readjusting her dress. "Thank you," she said, so softly that the words could barely be heard. "I didn't know you could draw like this."</p><p>He shrugged. "She cleaned it up. I only sketched out the concept."</p><p>Annabeth pushed him, playful, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Quit being so modest!" Just then, her phone screen lit up in Percy's hand. He passed it to her. <em>$1000 has been transferred to your account.</em></p><p>"Fucking hell," Annabeth breathed. She shook her head in disbelief and slipped her phone back into her pocket.</p><p>They left the tattoo parlour, Annabeth wearing Percy's suit jacket again to defend against the cold. The night was strangely silent now; fewer cars roamed the streets. New York did sleep, albeit restlessly—the city would always toss and turn in its slumber.</p><p>Annabeth's phone rang in her pocket. She picked it up. "Hey, Jason."</p><p>"<em>Beth! You alright?"</em></p><p>Annabeth could hear loud, thumping house music playing wherever he was. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"</p><p>"<em>We've been watching your Nerve feed! Do you realise you're fucking famous?"</em></p><p>Annabeth leant into Percy, changing her phone to the other ear. "I think that's an exaggeration."</p><p>"<em>Well, whatever you're doing, keep doing it. People love you and that guy—Jackson. You two together are literally like fourth place in the whole city."</em></p><p>Annabeth's heart skipped a beat. "Wait, seriously?"</p><p>"<em>Yeah. Piper's pissed off—you've been playing Nerve for like two hours and you're doing way better than her." </em>Jason laughed. <em>"Don't worry, she still loves you. Anyway, you've got to head over here!"</em></p><p>"What? Over where?"</p><p>"<em>The blacklight party, of course. Everyone's here, practically all of New York. I'll send you the address. Anyway, gotta go! McLean's about to do more crazy shit. Love ya!" </em>He hung up. Annabeth drew the phone away from her ear, a little bewildered.</p><p>"Who was that?" Percy asked.</p><p>"My friend. He's watching Nerve. Asked us to head over to the party they're at."</p><p>Percy had taken out his phone to check his Nerve feed. At that, though, he looked up. "Oh, that huge blacklight party? Yeah, a couple of people I know are there." At that, both their phones buzzed.</p><p>Annabeth checked hers—a new dare had come in. <em>Go to the blacklight party.</em></p><p>Percy held up his own phone, revealing that his showed the same message. He half-smiled. "Guess we're going."</p><p>Together, they headed over to where they'd left Percy's motorbike. As they approached the curb, however, Annabeth slowed to a halt in dawning realisation. "It's gone."</p><p>Percy caught up with her, head swivelling as he scanned the road for any sign of the bike. "Fuck," he said, with emphasis.</p><p>"How are we going to make it there now?" Annabeth checked her phone—they only had fifteen minutes to get there or they'd fail the dare.</p><p>Percy's eyes were fixed on something across the road. He broke into a run. "C'mon," he called over his shoulder.</p><p>Annabeth jogged to catch up, a question already on her lips. "What are you doing?"</p><p>Percy had stopped in front of a beat-up Volkswagen, brows furrowed. "Looks like an old enough model," he mumbled, then out of nowhere put his foot through the car window. The glass crumpled inward, smashing into a dozen pieces. Luckily, the car alarm didn't go off. He then reached through the window and opened the door from the inside. He stepped in, leaning over the steering column cover. He took off the access panel, hands quick and certain. Soon, he was fiddling with the many coloured wires.</p><p>"This is so fucking illegal," Annabeth mumbled, arms crossed. Anxiety was a hot needle in her stomach.</p><p>"It's fine, we'll return it." It only took a few seconds before Percy got the engine started. He whooped, gesturing for Annabeth to get in. "Let's go, let's go!"</p><p>Annabeth glanced around, worried that someone might've been watching. Still, she got in the passenger seat. "How many goddamn crimes are we gonna commit today?"</p><p>Percy gave her a sharp, serpentine smile. "Well, I did steal that motorbike."</p><p>Annabeth's mouth dropped open in realisation. "What the fuck?" She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "So that was what you meant when you said you'd only learnt to drive it earlier."</p><p>Pulling his seatbelt on, he laughed. "For a dare."</p><p>Annabeth swatted him. "Jackson! What if the police saw me on it too?!"</p><p>"Quit worrying and relax. I'm actually beginning to enjoy all this grand theft auto." With that, he flashed Annabeth another crooked smile and stepped on the accelerator, revving off into the city's night air.</p><p>A few minutes into the drive, Annabeth reached forward to put the radio on. She frowned as she tried to turn the station from classical to something a little more modern, but the radio seemed stuck on that station. "Great. Now we're stuck listening to fucking Mozart."</p><p>"This is Schubert, actually," Percy replied. Annabeth raised a brow at that, and Percy leapt to his own defence. "What? My mom used to like classical music."</p><p>"Used to?" Annabeth asked, caution creeping into her tone.</p><p>Percy shifted. "Oh, yeah. She died a couple years back."</p><p>"God."</p><p>"Yeah, whatever. Just don't give me that <em>I'm sorry for your loss </em>crap."</p><p>Annabeth put her feet onto the dashboard, picking at her nails. She was quiet for a moment before she spoke. "No, I get it. My dad died last January."</p><p>Percy's eyes flickered to hers, then back to the road. "Well, that's shit."</p><p>Annabeth laughed dryly. "Guess we're both sob stories, huh?"</p><p>"Oh, we're not special. Didn't you hear? Our whole generation's fucked."</p><p>Annabeth laughed for real that time, nudging into Percy. Her gaze snagged on his face, on his purple black eye. She thought about how he'd always been a little beat-up in school. How she'd always assumed it was because he got in fights, because he didn't care about whose fist he ran into. "Hey, Percy?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"How'd you get that black eye?"</p><p>Percy stiffened. She watched his knuckles go white on the steering wheel, and his jaw ticked slightly. He shook his head. She didn't anticipate the answer that followed. "My stepdad drinks," he said.</p><p>A quiet <em>Oh </em>fell out of Annabeth's mouth. She swallowed, anger settling like concrete into her body. "Does he…do that a lot?"</p><p>Percy just nodded; it was a hesitant, stuttering thing. Annabeth instantly wished she hadn't pushed. She wondered if that was why he was playing Nerve—as a means of escape. A heartbeat later, she reached out, resting her hand on Percy's arm. She chose her words carefully. "I know you're strong. Hell, you're one of the strongest people I know. But, Percy...that doesn't mean you have to endure it."</p><p>Percy was silent, eyes on the road ahead. He let out a breath. Quietly, he said, "I <em>do </em>know. I only stay 'cause of my sister."</p><p>Annabeth searched her memory, then something clicked—she barely recalled the mention of an <em>Estelle </em>back when she'd known him in school<em>. </em>"I want to help," she said carefully. "He doesn't get to hurt you like that."</p><p>Percy barked out a laugh. "I don't take it lying down."</p><p>And, God, somehow that was worse. Annabeth reached for his hand on the stick shift and brushed her thumb over his knuckle, offering comfort in the only way she knew how. "Is he why you're playing? So you and Estelle can get out?"</p><p>"Among other things," he replied, voice a little harder than usual. Annabeth nodded slightly, taking her hand away. Making him upset wasn't what she was trying to do. She exhaled, slowing her racing heart.</p><p>They both fell silent, listening to the beautiful classical music drifting from the radio's speakers. Percy's gaze caught on Annabeth's, and she couldn't stop herself from offering him a hesitant smile. It took him a moment to return it, but once he did, the warmth was back in his eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>"We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven." </em>—<em>R.S.</em></p>
<hr/><p>They screeched to a stop outside the blacklight party. Already Annabeth could hear the music: ear-splitting drum and bass. It was being held in a converted warehouse, tucked behind a block of buildings. Some rich city kid had probably emptied their pockets to doll it up for parties like this one.</p><p>Percy got out, closing the door behind him. In the dim streetlights, his face looked ghostly. He was all dark, hollowed-out eye sockets and slashing, ghost-like cheekbones. Still, his crooked, charming smile destroyed the image. He pointed towards the alleyway that snaked between two of the buildings. "It's between there," he said. Annabeth supposed he meant that there was the entrance to the party.</p><p>The alleyway was black as pitch, and Annabeth couldn't stop herself glancing behind her as she walked beside Percy, heading towards the faint, white light spilling from an open door further down. Two bouncers in suits waited outside, arms crossed. When Annabeth and Percy approached, the bouncers stepped back to let them pass. One of them extended an arm to welcome them in, winking at Annabeth unsubtly. He'd probably been watching her Nerve livestream.</p><p>Annabeth grabbed Percy's hand as they ducked inside where the music was a little more deafening. Now, she could also hear the babble of drunk voices, punctuated by the occasional raucous yell. They emerged into a huge, arching open space. It was filled to the brim with dancing partygoers painted with neon colours and clutching little red cups and open glass bottles. A DJ crew had been set up across the room. Every crevice of the warehouse was cast in an eerie, blueish glow from the muted UV lights lining the walls, setting alight everyone's painted skin and clothes with luminescence.</p><p>A wave of overwhelming unease bubbled in Annabeth's gut, but she ignored it. Percy was already dragging her over to a table where a girl was sitting with several pots of body paint. She was just finishing up on some other guy. He was sporting glowing blue lightning bolts around his shoulders and up his neck. He thanked her and stumbled away, loose-limbed and alcohol-pliant. She offered him a jaded smile as he left. "Get yourself home safe!" she yelled, twisting the lid back on her blue paint.</p><p>Percy strode up to her, grinning. "Dare!" he called, breaking into a jog.</p><p>The girl turned, curly red hair slipping over her shoulder with the motion. She laughed when she saw who it was, leaning into the hug that Percy gave her. "Jackson! Haven't seen you in a couple months. You finally start giving a shit about old friends?"</p><p>Percy stepped back, arms falling away. "Sorry. I didn't mean to ghost you," he laughed.</p><p>Then, the girl noticed Annabeth and offered her a smile. "Sorry, I'm Rachel. Percy and I know each other from way back when."</p><p>Percy's hand came to rest of the small of Annabeth's back. She held back a shiver. "This is Annabeth," he said. "We're playing Nerve together."</p><p>Rachel laughed. "Oh, I know who <em>you </em>are. Everyone's been watching your stream." She dipped her brush in a jar of murky water, washing off the paint. "And even though you're new, people think you might be in the running to win." She screwed the lid off a jar of neon green paint and beckoned at Percy. "Right. What pattern do you want?"</p><p>Percy was shaking his head. "Oh, no—"</p><p>Annabeth pushed him forward, laughing. "Oh, <em>yes</em>. You'll look great, come on!"</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Percy gave in. "It'll be your turn next," he muttered.</p><p>Before long, Rachel was finished with both of them. She'd given Percy bright, luminous green swirls across his torso, which glowed against his bronze skin. He'd taken off his shirt to accommodate the paint, and now was only wearing his suit jacket. He looked a little ridiculous, but he stole Annabeth's breath regardless. She, meanwhile, had neon gold patterns across her bare shoulders and flowing down her spine, where the backless dress was open.</p><p>In the dark, Percy didn't look like himself. He resembled a shadow encased in neon green—if Annabeth was feeling any more philosophical, she might've compared him to some sort of mythical being. As it was, she couldn't stop herself from reaching up and gently swiping away the smudge of green he had on his jawbone. Percy smiled at her softly. He bent to her level to speak into her ear so she could hear him over the music. "You look beautiful," he murmured. At that, something bloomed in Annabeth's chest.</p><p>"So do you," she replied, laughing. Before she could think better of it, she grabbed his hand and led him in the direction of the seething mass of people that was the dance floor.</p><p>A mosh pit had been created in front of the DJ set. Two guys were standing in the middle of it, surrounded by chanting partygoers. Annabeth fought to the front of the ring, Percy beside her. A couple of people knew them, faces lighting up in recognition. "Hey, it's those two Players!"</p><p>Percy slipped his arm around Annabeth's waist, pulling her to him as they struggled to stay upright in the front rows of the mosh pit. One of the two guys in the middle laughed, before taking a generous gulp from a vodka bottle. The blond guy beside him was standing on a stool holding a tray full of water and ice. He was filming.</p><p>"They're doing a dare," Percy said to her, answering the question forming on Annabeth's lips. "They seem to be pretty popular, too."</p><p>The guy standing on the stool held up three fingers, motioning for quiet. Their audience chanted along as he counted down on his fingers. "<em>Three! Two! One!</em>"</p><p>The blond guy slowly tipped the ice water over the other guy's head. He shrieked and flailed but managed not to fall off the stool. Utterly soaked, his clothes clung to his body, translucent, and his dark bangs stuck to his face in clumps. He pushed them out the way, grinning. The audience screamed as he pumped his fist, silver skull ring flashing. He hopped down from the stool. To Annabeth's surprise, he turned and dragged the blond guy into a deep kiss, pulling him down to his height by fisting his hand into his shirt. The blond guy smiled into the kiss, returning it. At that, everyone roared with praise even louder.</p><p>After, Percy dragged Annabeth to the dance floor, face alight with a shit-eating grin. Annabeth slipped into the wavelength of the music, enjoying the feeling of the bass pounding through her ribcage. The sips of wine Annabeth had had were settling pleasantly into her stomach, tinging the world in a rosy hue. And, God, Percy was nothing but sweat and heat against her as he moved to the beat of the music, eyes closed in some kind of reverie.</p><p>Without warning, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, resting a hand on his chest. His lips were soft and a little spellbinding—she never wanted to pull away. Still, she did. Percy opened his eyes again—those <em>eyes</em>—and Annabeth felt like she'd been swallowed whole. He said something, but it was too loud to hear, so Annabeth just put a finger to his lips, shushing him.</p><p>Percy laughed, caught in the delirium, and kissed her again. Time was nothing. Seconds were days, were years, were the bite of his fingernails on Annabeth's waist, the scrape of teeth on her lower lip and the warmth of Percy's seeking hands. <em>Beautiful, </em>he mouthed. An elated laugh surged up Annabeth's throat before dying as he kissed her again.</p><p>They did nothing but kiss and dance for a while, memorising the feel of one another. Eventually, though, Annabeth was jolted out of her bubble by a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>She spun, eyes widening. "Leo!"</p><p>Leo stood behind her, trying not to get jostled over by the crowd. His riotous hair was slick with gel and a little neon heart had been painted on his cheek. "I've been looking for you!" he yelled. Gestured behind him, he started to head off. "Come on!"</p><p>Together, Annabeth and Percy followed him, fighting to get out of the crowd. "Where are we going?" Annabeth asked.</p><p>Leo just grinned. "Upstairs." He led them around the back, where a set of stairs ascended to the next floor. A sign read <em>VIP Entrance</em>, but Leo just stepped over it. Percy threw Annabeth a hesitant look.</p><p>She shrugged in reply. "You heard him."</p><p>As they ascended the stairs to the VIP lounge, following Leo, Annabeth felt Percy brush his knuckle against hers. She glanced up at him. A small smile was quirking at the corner of his mouth.</p><p>Leo pushed open the door to the lounge, stepping through. Immediately, they were bathed in quiet, neon light, and the scents of both jasmine and pot drifted through the air. The lounge was huge, and dozens of recliners and bean bags were scattered everywhere, filled by partygoers with dilated pupils and red eyes. A bar was off to the right, stocked with shelves of spirits. Classical music droned from a vinyl player somewhere. Leo raised his hand and yelled across the lounge, and Annabeth saw he was calling to Piper and Jason.</p><p>Piper were sitting, cross-legged on a table. Jason was standing beside her, filming her for her Nerve stream and laughing. Leo jogged over, grinning. Exchanging a glance, Annabeth and Percy followed. "Annabeth!" Piper yelled, getting up. "I leave you alone for <em>one minute—</em>"</p><p>Annabeth laughed, hugging Piper. "I'm fine. You were the one that wanted me to get into Nerve."</p><p>Piper rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but not like, so you'd run naked through a department store."</p><p>Annabeth raised her hands in surrender. "We didn't get arrested, did we? Also, this is Percy. Percy, this is Piper, Jason and Leo."</p><p>Jason grinned, appraising Percy. "Oh, we know who you are." He held out a hand, and Percy shook it. "The tall, mysterious stranger Annie partnered up with. She's like my baby sister, okay? So—"</p><p>"Oh, God," Annabeth groaned. "Don't give him the <em>Hurt her and you'll have me to deal with </em>talk."</p><p>Percy smiled. "I think it's nice of him." He turned to Piper. "I've seen your Nerve feed, by the way. Your dares are insane—you must be doing pretty well."</p><p>Piper pouted. "Yeah, but not as well as Annabeth. It's her fucking first day<em>, </em>too." Suddenly, Piper's phone dinged. She pulled it out, mouth pulling into a grin. "New dare."</p><p>She flashed the screen in Jason's direction, who groaned. "Fuck. No way."</p><p>"Let's see, let's see." Leo leaned over to see the dare, and his mouth fell open. "Shit. You gonna do it?"</p><p>Jason was already shaking his head. "Don't, Pipes," he begged.</p><p>Piper was looking around, worrying her lip between her teeth. "Anyone got a needle and a lighter? One of the Watchers must."</p><p>As if on cue, a guy walked up to them, holding what Piper needed. He was wearing a slick denim jacket, and his head was buzzed to the roots. He winked at Annabeth, then handed Piper the shit she'd asked for. Annabeth immediately wondered how it all worked—did the Watchers choose the dares? Did the system choose them?</p><p>Annabeth snatched Piper's phone, then recoiled. <em>Choose someone to give you a piercing while blindfolded, </em>the dare read.</p><p>Piper sat down on the table again, taking Jason's sleeve and pulling him towards her. "Can you do it? I don't trust anyone else."</p><p>Jason heaved a sigh but took the needle and lighter. "Where do you want it?" he asked.</p><p>"Don't just do it on her ear," Percy broke in. "That's too easy. The Watchers won't be satisfied."</p><p>"True," Leo agreed. "They'll want a little more danger."</p><p>Piper exhaled shakily. "Do my nose. I'm sure it'll be fine."</p><p>Jason hesitated, then nodded. He quickly sterilised the needle with the lighter, then took off Piper's scarf and tied it around his eyes, blocking his vision. "Okay," he said, uncertain. "Guide my hand."</p><p>Piper carefully brought his hand to her nose. "You need to do it quickly, okay? Don't just put the needle in halfway."</p><p>Jason placed the needle against Piper's nose, feeling with his fingertips. "That the right place?"</p><p>"Yeah," Annabeth said. She took Piper's phone and held it up to film the dare.</p><p>Without warning, Jason plunged the needle through Piper's cartilage. She didn't cry out—the only sign that it had even hurt was her sharp inhalation. Jason quickly removed the needle and pressed the nose ring the Watcher had given then into the hole.</p><p>Leo and Percy cheered, but Annabeth just sagged in relief. "Thank fuck you didn't stab her face."</p><p>Jason pulled off the blindfold and appraised his work. A relieved grin was on his face. "I've got a steady hand."</p><p>As the others fell into easy conversation, Piper grabbed Annabeth's sleeve and dragged her to the side. "I need to talk to you."</p><p>Annabeth complied, going with her. "What?"</p><p>Piper lead her over to the bar, a little way over from the others. She fixed Annabeth with a look and said, "I hope you know what you're doing."</p><p>"Sorry?"</p><p>Piper raised a brow. "It's clear you like Jackson."</p><p>Annabeth folded her arms, feeling put on the spot. "We only just met."</p><p>Piper barked out a laugh. "Yeah, you're right. But you're falling hard—I can see it in the way you look at him. Except he's just some smooth talker who's hitching a lift on your fame. He's going to ditch you as soon as you make finals."</p><p>A wave of shock crashed over Annabeth. She stuttered for a moment, rage binding her tongue in knots. There was no way to reconcile Piper's perception of Percy with the way Annabeth knew he really was. "I…I…What the <em>fuck</em>? You think—you…" Unknowingly, Annabeth balled her hands into fists. "You don't know anything about him!"</p><p>Piper leaned back. "Exactly," she said coolly. "And neither do you. You're being naïve. He's gonna break your goddamn heart."</p><p>Annabeth ground her teeth, her frustration a growing ball of fire in her gut. Her vision was red-hued as anger began to settle into her bones. "You're only saying this because you're mad you're not gonna make it to finals."</p><p>Piper's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"</p><p>"Oh, you heard me. You're fucking jealous." Hurt flashed in Piper's eyes, and for a fleeting moment Annabeth wondered if she'd been needlessly cruel.</p><p>Piper seemed to shrink right in front of her. "Everything just falls right into your lap, doesn't it?" she spat, expression slick with spite.</p><p>And, God, Piper's words were so far from the truth that Annabeth wanted to scream. Nothing had ever been given to her—she'd had to fight for everything good in her life. Her scholarship to Goode High, her art classes, the money for her and Helen's next meal. Even <em>this</em>—Nerve—had taken more strength than she'd ever known she had.</p><p>And for Piper of all people to say that, the girl whose dad was a movie star and whose mom was a model...Percy had been the first person in her life to take her for who she was and still want her, even after seeing her ugly. Her flaws. Hell, he'd shown her <em>his </em>ugly in return. "Go fuck yourself," Annabeth said, cold and detached as the Ice Queen that Piper always said she was.</p><p>Suddenly, they were struck from their argument by the<em> ding </em>of Piper's phone. Piper pulled it out, hands shaking. Annabeth couldn't see what the dare was, but Piper's face turned pale as she read it. Still, she set her jaw, training her gaze back on Annabeth. "Run back to your boyfriend, then," she said, scathing as a knife. She turned and walked away, pushing through the crowd.</p><p>Immediately, regret bloomed in Annabeth's lungs. "Wait!" she called. She wished that she could take everything back, that Piper would just listen. But she'd already left.</p><p>Everyone seemed to notice Piper had left all at once. Annabeth stared, shell-shocked, at where Piper had left, until Jason jogged up to her. "Where's Pipes?" he asked, gaze panning the perimeter of the lounge.</p><p>Annabeth could do nothing but point. "I think she got a dare," Annabeth managed, then waved for Jason and the others to follow her. "Come on!"</p><p>Annabeth sprinted after her, the last dregs of the alcohol seeping out of her system as adrenaline seeped through her veins. She could see that Piper was running to the stairs, and caught a glimpse of her wild brown hair as she disappeared. She followed, hoping wildly that Piper wouldn't do anything stupid.</p><p>The clatter of footsteps against the metal stairs was heavy in the air as Annabeth ran after Piper, followed by the others. A dozen partygoers followed them, holding their phones high to film the action for Nerve. It seemed to take a lifetime for them to make it to the top floor of the converted warehouse, and Annabeth's breath was ragged by the time she reached the attic.</p><p>Annabeth zeroed in on Piper, who was leaning out of the window. A ladder had been set up horizontally, and reached from the warehouse to the office block across from them. Annabeth could hear whooping and screams of encouragement from Watchers standing at the window in the opposite building.</p><p>Annabeth ran to Piper and tried to pull her back, but Piper ripped Annabeth's hand off her shoulder with a murderous glare. "I'm doing this," she gritted out. Without another breath of hesitation, she stepped up onto the windowpane.</p><p>"Piper, don't!" Jason yelled, and tried to pull Piper down.</p><p>Annabeth stopped him. "Careful, you'll make her fall!" Piper was already too far to pull back anyway, as she crouched on the rungs of the ladder. She was suspended hundreds of metres above a glistening highway, and her panicked breathing was audible even from where Annabeth stood. Piper's phone was in her hand, filming—Annabeth guessed that part of the dare must be to record it herself.</p><p>Annabeth seized the end of the ladder, holding it in place. Percy joined her. "Piper, cross it on your hands and knees!" he called, and Piper followed his advice.</p><p>She moved forward another couple of inches, knees sliding across the metal. It almost creaked under her weight, threatening to give way. Annabeth could hardly breathe, and her knuckles were white where they clenched against the ladder. "Fuck," she muttered. It was all she and Percy could do to keep the ladder from slipping.</p><p>Jason joined them, shaken out of his stupor. Across the ladder, Piper was hyperventilating. Still, she kept moving. Now, she was a quarter of the way across the ladder. Annabeth couldn't prevent herself from glancing down at the raging traffic below, at the haze of lights and screeching tires. She didn't want to imagine losing a friend to that.</p><p>Time seemed to move in slow motion. Piper fumbled on the ladder, losing her grip for a split second. That was all it took—she dropped her phone, barely able to keep herself hanging on. The wind was vicious, tearing at her hair and clothes. Annabeth watched as it fell the distance to the road. <em>She's failed.</em></p><p>"Piper, come back!" Leo shouted.</p><p>Jason's eyes were wet. "Pipes, please," he choked out. In the next few seconds, Piper made it back across the ladder and fell haphazardly into Jason's arms, sobbing.</p><p>Annabeth looped her arms around her, barely able to speak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she mumbled. She let go, giving her space.</p><p>Piper wouldn't let go completely of Jason now that she was anchored to something solid, and kept her fingers tangled up with his. "I'm sorry too," she said, eyes puffy and red. "God, I'm such a fucking idiot."</p><p>"You're not," Jason said. "Anyway, that was pretty badass." His voice trembled a little, and Annabeth realised how scared he'd been of losing her. Unable to stop himself, he gathered his girlfriend up in his arms again, nosing into her hair. He whispered something inaudible to her, something just for them.</p><p>Amongst the relief and yelling from everyone else, Annabeth felt her phone buzz in her pocket. A sense of dread filled her as she took it out and glanced at the screen. The words <em>Finish her dare</em> glowed on her feed, and Annabeth swore under her breath.</p><p>She'd come this far—she couldn't back out now, right? Annabeth steeled herself. She slipped past Percy, who jerked his head around as she passed. His eyes caught on hers as she stepped up to the window, understanding lighting up within them. "Annabeth, don't!" he yelled, hand shooting out to try and catch her arm. His fingertips only brushed her wrist, missing her.</p><p>Annabeth stepped out onto the ladder, refusing to look down. A surge of shouts and protests filled the air around her, Percy's voice among them. He called for her to come back, but she blocked him out. Hundreds of feet up and without a lifeline, she couldn't afford to lose concentration. If she was going to make it, she had to do walk across fast—before the wind picked back up. Even as the thought crossed her mind, the beginnings of a breeze seemed to whisper at her. <em>Quickly, quickly, </em>the wind said.</p><p>Annabeth shakily stood up on the ladder, feet braced on each side—unlike Piper, who'd been on her hands and knees. She took a step forward, then another, then three more in succession. Every time she stopped moving, she seemed to sway, so she just didn't stop moving. Behind her, Annabeth could hear Piper screaming her name, but even that was fuzzy, unfocused. Annabeth couldn't stop her eyes from flicking down to the raging traffic below her. She gasped as her feet lost traction for a moment and fell into a crouch, hand tightening on her phone. If she let go of it and stopped filming, she lost the dare anyway.</p><p>Only another couple metres, and she'd be at the end. Without a breath of hesitation, Annabeth stood up. She sprinted to the end of the ladder, her steps sure and certain. She tumbled through the window on the other side to a wave of cheering and clapping, heaving ragged breaths as the Watchers waiting within helped her find her footing.</p><p>The words <em>Dare Complete! $2500 has been transferred to your account</em> lit up on the screen of her phone, but she barely even processed it. All she wanted was to fall into Percy's arms, but he was a whole building away and she had nothing but the cold hands of strangers and her own strength to keep her standing.</p><p>Someone was shouting something at her. She raised her head in response. Her vision was still unfocused, but at least it was beginning to return. "You're in first place right now!" they were saying, over and over.</p><p>"I'm in the final?" she asked, a little helplessly. She wasn't even certain she cared, but—the prize money would pay for a thousand things that she needed to pull her and Helen up and out of the pit they'd fallen in. That was certainly worth caring about. "Percy. I need to find Percy," she managed, and headed to the nearest set of stairs. Maybe he'd be waiting at the bottom.</p><p>When Annabeth made it to the ground floor of the building, she stepped outside to a rush of cool air in the face. She looked around wildly—there he stood. Annabeth had never been happier that her gut had been right.</p><p>Percy saw her just after she saw him, and his face lit up as his gaze fell upon her face. His hair was an utter mess, like he'd run his hand through it a dozen times. The swirling green paint on his chest was faintly luminescent under the light of the moon, and his suit jacket was rumpled over his bare torso. He had to be cold.</p><p>Annabeth ran up to him, and he pulled her immediately into an embrace. Annabeth tucked her head into his shoulder, as he held her so tightly that he might've thought she was going to dissolve into nothing any second. His breath was ragged as she hugged him back. A false feeling of safety trickled into her, and Annabeth tried not to think about why Percy's arms felt so secure. "Don't ever leave me like that again," he mumbled into her hair. "I was so…I was so scared—"</p><p>"I won't. I promise." After a lifetime, they pulled apart. Percy was so warm, so hard to pull away from, that Annabeth found that it felt a little like untangling twisted shoelaces. Annabeth let out a bubbling laugh, delirious. "God, that was insane. <em>I'm</em> insane. I thought I was going to die."</p><p>Percy shook his head, a half-smile fighting its way onto his face. "Yeah, seconded. When I saw you stumble, I thought..." He trailed off, a vulnerable look in his eyes.</p><p>Annabeth took his hand, just to give him something to hold on to. "Well, I'm here, okay? I made it." Reality crashed back over Annabeth for a moment as she realised how far they'd come. She broke into a grin. "We're in the final, you know."</p><p>Percy laughed, all disbelief. "I know. What the fuck."</p><p>Annabeth fiddled with his hand, feeling the warm calluses and dragging her thumb over the lines on his palm. "We're not gonna be able to partner up anymore, are we?"</p><p>Percy checked the time on his phone, not letting go of Annabeth's hand to do so, and a flood of affection washed over Annabeth. "The final starts at midnight, right? It's 11:31. So we have a little more time. And I don't know about you, but I don't wanna split up yet."</p><p>Annabeth shook her head. "Definitely not."</p><p>Suddenly, they were interrupted by the muted buzz of Percy's phone. He took it out. A new dare was flashing on its screen. Annabeth leant around to see it and let out an audible gasp. "What the fuck?" <em>Reach 70mph blindfolded on a motorbike.</em></p><p>Percy looked up from the phone, his gaze caught on something. He pointed. "Look, they brought back the motorbike." Annabeth followed the gesture. Sure enough, Percy's bike was parked by the curb.</p><p>He jogged over, and Annabeth followed. A protest built on her tongue as Percy picked up on of their helmets—a piece of duct tape covered the eyepiece, acting as a blindfold. Annabeth grabbed it away from him. "You're not doing this dare."</p><p>"And why not?"</p><p>Annabeth stuttered, her mouth opening and closing. "Because—because it's ridiculously dangerous! You could crash."</p><p>Percy rolled his eyes, amusement tugging at his mouth. "No shit."</p><p>"Do you have a fucking death wish?"</p><p>"I could ask the same of you, Annabeth." He pulled the helmet on, snapping the blacked-out eyepiece up for the time being so he could see. "If you're so worried, you could always join me."</p><p>Annabeth gaped. "What, so we can crash and burn together?"</p><p>"No, idiot. So you could direct me." He gave a wry smile. "You know, help me not die." Annabeth was silent for a moment, arms crossed. She watched as Percy got on the bike, turning the key. The engine started with a low rumble, but he didn't drive away. He turned to Annabeth again, extending a hand. "If you come, I swear I won't let us crash." A heartbeat, then: "Trust me."</p><p>His dark, grey-green eyes were a mess of hope in the darkness, and Annabeth could see how desperate he was. To win, to survive. To escape his stepdad. In that moment, Annabeth decided she'd help him win. No matter what it took.</p><p>With a nod, she got onto the bike. Percy radiated warmth, and she tucked her freezing arms around his waist. "Let's go," she said, and they did.</p><p>Percy drove them toward the outskirts of the city, where the roads were straighter and less crammed with traffic. He hadn't put his eyepiece down yet, choosing to wait until they found the right road. It didn't take long, and Annabeth said, "Now," as they veered around a corner. A huge, long stretch of road had opened ahead of them. Percy flicked his eyepiece down, effectively blinding himself. Annabeth stopped breathing as a truck slowed down suddenly ahead of them and held Percy tighter. "Slow down," she said. Percy did, and Annabeth leaned left to switch lanes so they wouldn't crash.</p><p><em>This could work, </em>she realised. Every time they reached a set of traffic lights, Annabeth told Percy when to stop and when to start. The world became a haze of red, amber and green as Annabeth zeroed in on the road ahead of them—if she lost focus, they could crash.</p><p>They approached the first turning. Annabeth freaked out. "Left! Turn left!"</p><p>"Just lean!" Percy shouted back. She did, leaning left. They swerved around the corner, narrowly missing the wing mirror of another car. Traffic was beginning to build up again.</p><p>As the bike accelerated, Annabeth leaned left, right, left to weave between cars and trucks. She checked the speedometer—they were at 60mph. <em>So close, yet so far. </em>"Faster, come on!"</p><p>Percy obliged, and they shot forward. For once, the road was clear in front of them. Wind whistled in Annabeth's ears, and rain began to filter from the skies. It raced in droplets down Annabeth's arms, soaking her dress and causing Rachel's neon gold paint to streak in rivulets down her body. Her dress was soaked in seconds.</p><p>Still, she whooped, arms bound tight around Percy's waist. "You're all I need," she murmured into his shoulder, too quiet for him to ever hear.</p><p>The speedometer turned to 70mph. Annabeth clicked Percy's eyepiece back up so he could see again. A laugh escaped from his lips, and he sped up even faster. Annabeth was certain they'd broken the speed limit a long time ago, but she couldn't bring herself to care.</p><p>Up ahead, the bright, dancing lights of a fairground filtered through the rain. Percy screeched the bike to a stop by the curb. Together, they practically fell off the bike, a tangle of limbs and lips. The fairground behind them was close to its closing hour, but it still offered something of a light show as they kissed.</p><p>Percy's hand found Annabeth's waist, and his fingertips slid against her spine as he held her close to him. Annabeth tilted his head down to kiss him more thoroughly. The rain seemed to quicken with Annabeth's pulse, drumming harder against the concrete road with each beat of her heart. Percy's hair was already slick and dark with rain, and it stuck in tendrils to his cheekbones and jaw.</p><p>His strange, viridian eyes sliced through the veil of rain, burning with an intensity that Annabeth thought might sear right through her. He half-smiled, barely pulling away from Annabeth even to speak. "God," he murmured. "I like you so fucking much." The golden light from the now-vacant fairground shimmered across the planes of his face, making him look like some ethereal, Fae creature.</p><p>Annabeth met his eyes, took his hands. She leaned in and kissed him again, smiling. "I like you too," she whispered back, the words hardly a breath against his lips. Still, he heard her.</p><p>The tangible emotion hanging between them was shattered by the sudden <em>ding </em>of both their phones. Annabeth checked hers, and there was a new notification from Nerve. <em>You have reached the final, </em>it read. <em>If you wish to partake, show up at the destination detailed below. Please be aware that Players currently in partnerships will no longer be able to work together once the final has begun.</em></p><p>Annabeth looked up to see that Percy had received the same message. He cracked a grin, but it was half-hearted. "Guess it's starting."</p><p>Annabeth nodded. "So…is this it?"</p><p>Shaking his head, Percy pulled her into a hug. "No. No, okay? I'll find you. After, I'll find you." He stepped away from her. Instantly, Annabeth was cold—save for where her fingers were tangled with his.</p><p>He led her back to the motorbike, and the pair of them pulled their helmets back on. Just before they set off, Annabeth leaned forward to Percy's ear. "You promise?" she asked.</p><p>Percy eased his foot down on the accelerator. The bike rumbled beneath them. "Yeah. I promise."</p>
<hr/><p>It wasn't long before they arrived at the final, Percy's motorbike screeching to a halt outside the building. It was a monstrous office block—grey, bleak and unexciting. Around Annabeth and Percy, a few Players had already shown up. Annabeth searched their faces for familiarity but found none. Still, her gaze caught on a tall blonde player. Arms crossed, he stared up at the building. Waiting.</p><p>Suddenly, as though sensing Annabeth's eyes burning through his back, he turned around. Annabeth almost flinched back as he grinned at her, expression vindictive and hostile. A scar stretched from his brow all the way down his cheek. He winked at Annabeth, all ice-blue eyes and cruelty. When he turned back around to talk to his friend—a short, Japanese guy with a smile as sharp as the penknife in his hand—Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p>Beside her, Percy slipped an arm around her waist. His gaze followed her own, and he frowned when he saw she'd been looking at the blonde, scarred Player. "Don't get mixed up with him," Percy murmured. "That jackass wouldn't think twice about letting you take a gunshot to the face if it'd save his own skin."</p><p>Annabeth looked up at Percy. "You know him?"</p><p>Percy started to nod but aborted it with a shake of his head. "Kinda. I used to."</p><p>"How come?"</p><p>"I went to the same high school as him in freshman year. His name was Luke. We were both loners, so even though we were never quite friends we always had some sort of mutual understanding. When I was all bruised up and shit from my stepdad, he'd help me. Get me ibuprofen, stuff like that. He wasn't a bad guy."</p><p>Annabeth rested her head on Percy's shoulder. She wished she could kill Percy's stepfather. "So what happened?"</p><p>Percy was quiet for a moment. "Well, last year..." He sighed. "I took part in Nerve in another city."</p><p>Shocked, Annabeth pulled away for a second. "You <em>what</em>?"</p><p>"Quiet, let me finish. I never made it to the final, but he did. We'd been partners, but he fucked up my last dare and got me disqualified just so he'd make it to finals."</p><p>"Jesus."</p><p>Percy ruffled his hair, getting it out his eyes. "I know. Never thought he had it in him."</p><p>Annabeth's attention drifted over to the Luke guy again. A thought occurred to her. "Percy," she started.</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Why do you keep competing? Playing Nerve? I know you need money to get away, but…" She trailed off. "Is all the danger worth it?"</p><p>Percy's jade-green eyes were shuttered. Cold. His gaze was fixed far away, utterly out of reach. "If you win Nerve, you get one demand—one wish. I'm eighteen in a couple months, so<em> I</em> can leave home soon, but…" His voice had gone all flat, the way it does when you're trying to hold back tears by remaining as apathetic as possible. "Estelle's only five. I can't just run off without her and leave her all alone with him. I've kept her safe this long."</p><p>Annabeth threaded their fingers together and squeezed. In that moment, she decided she'd use her wish to get Estelle an emancipation if she won—saving Percy and his sister seemed so much more important than far-away dreams of being able to pay tuition fees for universities she might not even get into. "You keep her safe, I'll keep <em>you</em> safe," she said. She pressed a careful kiss to Percy's cheek. "I'm staying with you. You're never gonna get rid of me."</p><p>Percy smiled, turning his head to kiss Annabeth properly. His lips were chapped and a little cold from the night chill but, God…everything finally felt okay.</p><p>Out of the darkness, several sleek, silver vans pulled up on the road ahead of them. The doors opened, making Percy tense beside her. "What's going on?" he wondered aloud. From each van, a dozen people clad in black got out, holding bats and cuffs. They looked almost like cops, but Annabeth knew they couldn't be. <em>The final must be starting.</em></p><p>The assailants ran towards the groups of Players, most of whom immediately scattered in fear. Some Players went down as soon as an attacker got their hands on them, but others put up a fight—punches landing and echoing shouts could be heard all around. Annabeth started to retreat, still holding onto Percy. She was helpless to watch as the Players around her were dragged down and choked into unconsciousness by chloroform rags, then bundled into the vans.</p><p>A group of assailants charged towards her and Percy, bats in hand. Percy was downed first—he took a hit to the jaw and immediately fell to his knees, groaning. Annabeth shrieked and fought as one of them grabbed her, muffling her cries with a rag over her mouth. Annabeth couldn't get loose. The last thing she remembered was the damp, slightly sweet scent of chloroform before her vision faded away.</p><p>Annabeth experienced nothing of the journey—only flashes of it. She drifted in and out of consciousness, feeling only the bumps of the road and hearing the occasional blaring horn. When she awoke fully, however, she was alone in an unfamiliar room. White, tiled walls surrounded her: a mockery of a mental asylum. There was even a mirror to one side, which was probably one-way glass. It made sense. They had to watch her somehow.</p><p>She'd been left in a heap on the floor, curled up in the fetal position. Blinking the lethargy out of her eyes, Annabeth tried to sit up—then realised her hands were bound with zip ties before her. The floor was cold, and…wet? Annabeth let out a shudder as she realised freezing cold water was slowly pooling on the floor, flowing in from the brass taps in every wall. The water level was rising and there was nothing she could do to stop it.</p><p>Annabeth brought her hands up to her face and dug her teeth into the locking mechanism on her zip ties, trying in vain to break them. With a guttural sob of frustration, she tried again. Again. <em>Why couldn't she fucking get them off? </em>Panic began to settle into her gut, twisting at her insides and working her into a frenzy.</p><p>While she struggled, the water was still rising around her. Now, it was half-way up her shins and showed no sign of slowing down. The feel of it on her skin was nauseating, and prompted an ugly memory from when she was younger to claw its way to the surface, uprooted from whatever deep, dark place in her brain she'd buried them in.</p><p>Annabeth clamped her bound hands against her temples—a fervent, desperate attempt to maintain her grip on reality. She could hear nothing but the sickening sound of water lapping at the tiled walls, and all she could image was the taste of river water suffocating her, forcing its way down her windpipe. Her dad was unconscious in the driver's seat, hands skeletal where they still clutched the wheel. The car was still sinking fast. Annabeth could no longer see the outline of the bridge they'd driven off through the hazy, grey-green water.</p><p>Annabeth scrabbled at her dad's seatbelt, tiny bubbles of oxygen slipping from between her lips. He was unresponsive. She might have screamed if it wouldn't have stolen the last of her dwindling breath. She couldn't save him. She was close to death herself.</p><p>The rest of the memories of that day seized her in procession—glass shattering, blood on her knuckles. Kicking wildly for the surface, lungs aflame. The painful certainty that she was already dead.</p><p>Annabeth tore back to the present with a gasping breath. <em>She wasn't back there. She wasn't back there. </em>The water had risen to waist height. Panic burned in Annabeth's stomach. She looked around wildly, searching for any way to get herself out of here. She could plug the taps, but she had nothing to plug them with except her dress—and the fabric was too strong for her to tear.</p><p>There! A loose tile on the wall. Annabeth moved towards it as fast as she could, sloughing through the cold, dirty water that swirled around her. With every second, the water level rose higher, closer and closer to her shoulders. It wouldn't be long before it swallowed her up.</p><p>Annabeth grabbed the tile, but it was too strongly adhered to the wall. With a guttural shout, she pulled as hard as she could. She could feel the mortar crumbling slightly, but it took another couple of attempts at breaking the tile away before it finally gave, detaching from the mortar. It was heavy and hard. Hopefully, it'd be strong enough to shatter glass.</p><p>Annabeth waded through the water to the other side of the room where the one-way glass was. Desperation tinted her vision. The water was now up to her shoulder level, lapping at her collar bones. Inhaling sharply, she slammed the tile into the glass, letting out a guttural shout. Nothing. She tried again, and a faint fracture appeared. Again and again she tried to break the glass—to free herself—and the fracture splintered outward a little further with each attempt.</p><p>The water lapped at Annabeth's chin. She had to stand on her tip-toes to keep her mouth above water, and she was breathing quickly and shallowly as the panic threatened to take over. The glass was so close to breaking. <em>One more hit</em>…</p><p>All at once, the one-way mirror shattered. Water crashed through it, sweeping Annabeth with it. She landed hard on concrete with a shuddering gasp, water in her mouth and in her throat. Coughing, she opened her eyes. Dark crimson stained the heels of her hands where she'd broken her fall on shards of glass. The blood trickled down her fingers, mixing with rivulets of water.</p><p>Around her, cameras gleamed in the dim light, their scopes trained towards where the glass had been. Though of course she knew her time playing Nerve had been broadcasted for everyone to see, actually being presented with the evidence of that in real life made her stomach churn. A guard stood across the room, baton in hand. He was talking into a receiver, surprisingly calm considering Annabeth's escape. Dark sunglasses cast his face in menacing shadow.</p><p>Annabeth staggered to her feet, wincing at the gaping wounds on her palms. She had to get away, but the guard was at the door. Now, he'd tucked his receiver away. Drawing his baton, he took a few tentative steps toward Annabeth—the way you'd approach a cornered animal—then lunged at her.</p><p>Adrenaline seized her. She ducked away, planting her elbow square into the guard's stomach. He grunted in shock but took no time to recover. The next moment, he'd gotten Annabeth's wrists pinned with one hand, holding her against him with the other. She thrashed and fought, but her efforts were futile. "Let me—<em>go!</em>"</p><p>His breath was hot on her face. He pressed a chloroform rag to her mouth, muffling any further protests. Annabeth began to fade away, but his murmured <em>well done</em> rung out in her delirious mind before everything fell away to nothing.</p><p>When Annabeth drifted back into wakefulness, the first thing she noticed was the lingering scent of smoke. Her lungs felt as though she'd inhaled a mouthful of cotton. Her head pounded with a killer migraine—probably all the chloroform. She tried to move her arms before realising they were bound behind her. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p>It took her a moment to gauge her surroundings. She was alone in a tiny room with one window, and smoke seeped in from where the door was ajar. Luckily, her hands were only zip-tied rather than cuffed. After a minute of muffled cursing, she managed to snap the feeble plastic and free herself.</p><p>Annabeth's eyes began to water and her throat burned with all the smoke she was inhaling. God, she had to get out of here or she'd pass out from lack of oxygen. Massaging her sore wrists, she stumbled to her feet. It was hard to see outside the window as the smoke was so thick, but she could just about make out a busy road maybe a hundred feet below her. She'd been left on the top floor of some sort of office block. Left to be consumed by the fire—if she didn't get the fuck out of here before it could beat her to the ground.</p><p>Annabeth booked it out of the room and emerged into a hallway. One end of it was aflame and the ceiling had collapsed in. She hurried the other way, hand clamped over her mouth in a useless attempt to filter some of the smoke. As she turned around corner after corner, searching for a stairwell, she heard a frantic shout. Then another. <em>Why did that voice sound familiar?</em></p><p>She headed toward the source of the shouting. As she got closer she realised what they were saying. "Help me! Someone, please!"</p><p>With a shock of panic, Annabeth realised who it was. "Percy!" She picked up speed, all thoughts of her own escape temporarily forgotten. Fire licked at her as she headed towards Percy's shouts, threatening to singe her legs and arms. Unwanted tears streamed down her face as her eyes burned in the thickening smoke.</p><p>She turned a corner, and there Percy was. He was lying on the floor, cuffed to a radiator with zip-ties. The room was burning around him, and Annabeth could see he was close to passing out due to smoke inhalation. But that wasn't even the worst thing—Percy was covered in angry bruises, and blood trickled from a gash on his lip. He'd been beaten, no doubt as part of his trial.</p><p>It didn't take a genius to work out how whatever sick fuck was behind Nerve had linked Percy's trial to his fears. His trauma. Annabeth wanted to kill them, but there wasn't any time. She ran to him, already calling his name. She took his hand, eyes drawn to his bruised-up knuckles. One of them was split down the middle. <em>He fought back. Thank Christ, he fought back.</em></p><p>His eyes fluttered open when he heard her. "Annabeth? Am I dead? Are you…are you dead too?"</p><p>Annabeth almost laughed, though it was more a laugh of frustration than anything else. "No. No, we're both alive. God, I've gotta get you out of here." <em>Somehow.</em></p><p>Percy was more awake now. His glass-green eyes reflected white as he took in the fire. When he spoke, his words were sluggish. "Annabeth, go. You're gonna die if you stay with me. Please, Beth. <em>Go.</em>" His voice broke on the last word, hoarse and utterly heart-breaking.</p><p>"Fuck off. I'm not leaving you here to die." She went to work on his zip-ties, trying to break them the same way she'd broken her own. With every second that passed, Annabeth became more aware of the fire that crept closer. It took a moment to break the ties, but with two hands free it was way easier. She slid an arm under Percy's shoulders and tugged. "Come on, Percy. You've got to get up."</p><p>Percy tried, but he had so little strength left that he had to lean most of his weight on Annabeth. At least he could stand. "Thank God you're okay," he mumbled in Annabeth's ear, a little delirious.</p><p>Annabeth steadied his weight against her. "We have to move. Don't let go of me, alright?"</p><p>His response was all breath, barely audible. "Alright."</p><p>They set off, trudging through the hallways in search of a stairwell. Percy seemed to regain some energy and managed to lean a little less dependently on Annabeth. The smoke was so thick that Annabeth could barely see through the haze, and they had to keep doubling back on themselves to escape the flames that had engulfed most of the floor.</p><p>Soon enough, Annabeth caught sight of a sign that read <em>Stairwell Seven. </em>Relief washed over her—she could've sobbed. Dragging Percy toward it, she pointed. "Over there!"</p><p>Together, they pushed the doors open. They stumbled down flight after flight of stairs in the near-darkness, hands clamped over their mouths in an attempt to ward away the smoke. Every step was a halting thought of <em>what if we fall, </em>but Annabeth remained upright, arm tight around Percy's waist. The stairwell was so huge, it seemed like they might keep blundering down forever. Every few flights, a new door beckoned the way to a different floor of the building. Floor I, Floor H, Floor G...Surely they were getting close.</p><p>They kept going. Suddenly—there! A few floors down, a set of double doors opened the way to Floor A<em>. </em>The ground floor. Annabeth grinned. "Percy! Look!" The far-away, hopeless fantasy of making it out of this place alive now seemed a little closer.</p><p>But as they approached, a figure came into view. Annabeth's heart stuttered in her chest when she realised who it was: the guy she'd seen with Luke, earlier. His dark hair was half-shorn and he had a slashing scar that ripped through his eye-socket, presumably rendering him blind. It made him look a little like Luke. Beside Annabeth, Percy muttered, "God. That's Ethan Nakamura."</p><p>Ethan stood in front of the doors to the ground floor, a tall bottle of vodka in his hand. With a vicious smile, he turned it on itself and let the contents splash all over the ground and the door, drenching their only exit in alcohol. Ethan pulled a Zippo lighter out of his pocket and switched it open. The tiny, orange flame that sparked from it spoke of finality. Annabeth stopped in her tracks, pulling Percy back. Ethan stepped through the door to safety and chucked the open lighter behind him. It landed in the pool of vodka. Instantly, the alcohol ignited and flames shot up, setting the door alight and all the floor around it. The fire was tinged blue and reeked of gas.</p><p>"Fuck," Annabeth gritted out. They'd have to head up to Floor B and find some way down from there.</p><p>It turned out to be far harder getting Percy <em>up </em>a flight of stairs that it had been to get him <em>down </em>them. Still, they made it. They pushed open the door to Floor B and emerged onto a landing that was partially aflame. Most of the door frames along this corridor had fallen in, but there was one that hadn't. They plunged through it half-blind, squinting into the smoke. Annabeth was drenched in sweat—both from the heat and from exertion.</p><p>The room they'd entered appeared to be some sort of office. Windows lined one wall, and sunlight poured in from outside. Luckily, the fire hadn't yet spread to this room. Annabeth ran to the window and peered out. She could see the pavement a few metres below. it was crowded with Watchers holding their phones high in the air, filming. Annabeth briefly wondered why no fire trucks had been called to the scene, but then dismissed the thought. The people behind this sick game undoubtedly had the power and money to pull anything off.</p><p>Annabeth opened the window, and relief washed over her when she saw that there was a fire escape. She turned to Percy. "Do you think you can climb down?"</p><p>Percy was swaying on the spot. His face was ashen, dusted in soot. Exhaustion seemed to emanate from him—Annabeth half-expected him to collapse on the spot. Still, he nodded. "Yeah."</p><p>Annabeth pushed the window open. "Oh, thank God," she said, breaking into gasps as she took in lungfuls of fresh air to try and expel the smoke clogging her system. She climbed out of the window, causing the metal frame of the fire escape to clang beneath her. They were roughly ten metres up, but it seemed like far more.</p><p>She reached through the window and helped Percy follow her. He winced in pain as his bruises scraped the windowsill, gripping Annabeth's shoulders to keep himself standing. Once he was steady, Annabeth bent down to unbolt the ladder, so they could get down. But it wouldn't give—the bolt was rusted shut, keeping the bottom of the ladder a solid four metres off the ground. She cursed and rattled it harder, but her efforts were futile.</p><p>Beside her, Percy was clinging on to the side of the fire escape. He looked even paler and more in pain now Annabeth could see him in the daylight, but at least he was standing now. He'd be fine once the shock was over—but only if she could get them both down this fucking fire escape. "I think we're going to have to jump," she decided, then took Percy's hand, guiding him down into a crouch. "I'll go first, okay?"</p><p>Percy's jaw twitched, but he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah."</p><p>Annabeth climbed down onto the half-released ladder, getting herself as low as she could. She braced herself, taking a deep breath. Without another second of hesitation, Annabeth let herself drop the four metres, taking the impact directly on her legs. She let out a shout, face contorting into a grimace at the jolt of fire that sang through her left ankle. "<em>Oh, </em>fuck," she gritted out, falling to her knees. She must've twisted it on the way down—if only she'd thought to land in a stunt roll or something.</p><p>"You okay?" Percy called from above.</p><p>Annabeth stood up a little shakily, testing her weight on the sore ankle. It seemed to be fine for the moment, but there was no way it wouldn't swell like a bitch later. "Yeah, I'll survive. You good to come down?"</p><p>"Yeah, just—give me a sec." Percy stepped onto the ladder, lowering himself down so he could jump more safely like Annabeth had. The next moment, he was falling. Annabeth's arms slid under his shoulders as he landed, taking some of his weight. He cried out, presumably having aggravated a few of his injuries. "Shit!"</p><p>Annabeth guided them both onto the curb so they could rest for a second. Percy leaned against her, panting hard. He watched as Annabeth inspected her ankle. The joint twinged when she moved it a little too quickly, drawing a breathy wince from her. Percy raised a brow in concern. "Sure you're alright?"</p><p>"Yeah. I can still move it, so it's probably just a sprain."</p><p>Percy opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the sudden <em>ding </em>of a notification. Annabeth reached into her pocket to find a burner phone—one she definitely didn't own. They'd probably replaced her old phone with this one to prevent her from contacting anyone during the finale. She was willing to bet it could only receive texts from Nerve. She clicked on the message from a blocked number, and it simply read: <em>Dare complete. Please head to the following destination.</em></p><p>Annabeth didn't recognise the destination, but it appeared to be some sort of church. Percy was reading over her shoulder, and she saw him flinch. "What?" she asked.</p><p>"Nothing, just...That's the church me and my sister used to go to." He was getting that closed-off look to his eyes again.</p><p>Annabeth wanted to pull him back to the present, but she didn't know how. Instead, she just took his hand and laced her fingers through his. "With your mom?" He didn't say anything, but Annabeth heard the soundless answer loud and clear. Gently, she tugged them both to their feet. "C'mon. Let's go."</p><p>Fifteen minutes later, Percy's church loomed before them. It'd only been a few blocks away, and he'd known exactly where to find it. Annabeth approached first, glancing back at Percy. His fist was clenched tight around the silver cross hanging from his neck, and his eyes were trained on the stained-glass windows above them. She watched his lips move silently—in prayer, she guessed. Annabeth had never been religious, but she could understand how hard this must be for him.</p><p>The church door opened with a heavy thud, spilling darkness out into the street. Annabeth squinted as she entered, trying to discern shapes in the blackness. She heard Percy jog to catch up with her, then felt his steady warmth at her side. Together, they walked down the hallway. It led into the main part of the church—a huge, arching stone space. Dozens of pews sat in rows, all faced toward a pulpit. Behind it, an organ stretched toward the ceiling. Its brass pipes shined almost gold in the quiet candlelight.</p><p>Nearing a hundred Watchers stood half-hidden in the darkness surrounding the walls of the church, faces hidden by masks. They cheered and clapped as Annabeth and Percy entered, a sickening wave of appreciation. Annabeth reached out and brushed her knuckle against Percy's in a show of support.</p><p>Annabeth almost halted when she saw who was standing in front of all the pews. A guy with dirty blonde hair and, most notably, a scar slicing his cheek in two. His arms were folded, his eyes trained on the pair of them. An irritatingly smug smile graced his face. Annabeth wondered for a second why Ethan wasn't with him, then decided she didn't want to think about those who hadn't made it out of the fire.</p><p>Shallow breaths seized Annabeth's lungs, and she forced herself to calm down. She'd already known she was way out of her depth—it was only a matter of keeping herself in one piece. <em>This could be the last one, </em>she told herself. And, God, she'd come this far already. She'd be damned if she'd give up now.</p><p>Annabeth walked slowly between the pews towards Luke, unable to shake the feeling that she was part of a funeral procession. Percy followed close behind her. Annabeth's ankle ached dully, but she forced the throbbing pain out of her mind. Letting it cloud her senses could only be a weakness.</p><p>Being up close to Luke was like staring a viper in the face. Annabeth balled her fists by her sides, willing herself not to move too much. After all, startling a snake could only end in injury.</p><p>His gaze was uncomfortable on hers, coldly ruthless. He cocked a brow. "I have to say, I wasn't sure if I'd see you again. Guess you're tougher than I gave you credit for."</p><p>Annabeth resisted the urge to bare her teeth. "Don't talk to me like I'm five."</p><p>Luke only laughed, and Annabeth briefly entertained the fantasy of smacking him in the face. He turned to Percy, and Annabeth watched his eyes wander across Percy's injuries. Annabeth knew it made him appear weak. Vulnerable. "You're looking a little worse for wear, Jackson."</p><p>Percy didn't bother with a response to that—the disgust on his face spoke volumes. "You're deluded if you think I want to talk to you." He was putting on such a display of strength and indifference, only Annabeth could see the way he swayed slightly, fighting through the pain of his wounds.</p><p>Luke grinned. "Someone's found their bite."</p><p>For a second, Annabeth thought Luke would go on. However, he wasn't given the chance—the sudden crackle of the loudspeakers and the boom of a voice interrupted them.</p><p>The voice was strangely androgynous, its tone flat and uncaring. "<em>Welcome to the final dare. Each of you have made it through difficult obstacles and made sacrifices beyond your previous imagining to even make it this far. You all vie to be the victor of Nerve—to receive online fame, endless wealth and one unlimited wish of your choosing. If the winner is currently a prisoner of the game, they will be released from their sentence." </em>At that, Luke closed his eyes.</p><p>Annabeth let the voice wash over her. She'd never wanted any of those things—only the opportunity to make it out of her stepmother's crappy apartment and the money to attend university somewhere far from here. As much as she wanted the wish for herself, though, she knew she wanted it for Percy more. Percy needed to escape so badly—his life, his mental health and even his sister all teetered on a ledge that crumbled a little more every day.</p><p>She would help Percy win, whatever way she could.</p><p>The voice was still going on. "<em>The losers of this finale will, unfortunately, become prisoners of the game rather than Players, and will lose all of their earnings. They will become locked away from the world, ghosts of their former lives. Now that you all know what's at stake, good luck. May the bravest Player win."</em> That static sound crackled through the air again, then the loudspeakers disconnected.</p><p>Everything went quiet for a moment—even the audience of Watchers. Annabeth felt rather than heard Percy draw in a deep, shaky breath beside her. It felt like this moment was hanging off a precipice, ready to fall at any moment. Like a pin dropping in a quiet room.</p><p>Behind the curtain, Annabeth saw movement. Suddenly, a masked Watcher emerged from behind it, holding a chair in one hand and a gun in the other. They set both down in front of the pulpit, the gun on the floor beside the chair. As they left, two more Watchers came out. They were holding a struggling, restrained person with a sack on their head—a teenage girl, from the sound of her muffled shouts. They sat her down in the chair and bound her hands behind it, securing her. When they ripped the sack off her head, Luke let out an audible gasp. "Thalia?" he managed.</p><p>The hostage was a young woman, like Annabeth had guessed. She was maybe eighteen to twenty years old. Her hair was buzzed close to the scalp, and a set of electric blue eyes darted around the church hall in a panic—a cornered animal. For some reason, Annabeth half-recognised her. Something about her face was kind of familiar, though Annabeth couldn't pinpoint it.</p><p>Annabeth's gaze flickered to Percy, who was watching the girl—Thalia—steadily. He didn't seem surprised, and Annabeth wondered if he knew her just like Luke did.</p><p>Luke was almost trembling. His hands were balled into fists at his sides as he stared at the gun on the floor beside Thalia with a fervent intensity. He took a step forward, throat bobbing. Thalia kept letting out raw muffled shouts through her gag, like she was trying to say something. Incredibly, Luke went and took off her gag, though he looked like he'd rather do anything but that.</p><p>"What the fuck, Luke?" Thalia immediately yelled. "I knew you'd play this goddamn game again. You just can't stay away, can you? Even after what happened last time!"</p><p>At that, Luke looked sobered. "Do you think I want to be doing this? I have no choice." He looked down at his feet and scoffed, shaking his head. "Last summer, I went to the police. For that crime, Nerve took me prisoner. They wiped my entire identity clean. My bank account, my medical history, even my goddamn birth record—all of that disappeared. For a year, I've been a ghost." His face softened. The kindness was a harsh juxtaposition against his scarred, cruel face. "I've missed you, Thals."</p><p>Thalia's expression was raw and open, like she understood but hated that she did. Salt brimmed in her eyes as she shook her head a little frantically. "Please, Luke. I know you're lost and hurting, but you don't need to do this. You don't. You don't." Her lips quivered, but there was a world of strength in her eyes. "I love you so much. Please. Please."</p><p>Annabeth thought her lungs would burst, she'd been holding her breath for so long. Luke bent to pick up the gun, but his hands were shaking so badly he almost dropped it. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice was quiet and utterly broken. He raised the gun, tremors racking his hands.</p><p>"Don't, Luke. This will break you. I know it will." Thalia's voice cracked as she squeezed her eyes shut, smudging rings of damp mascara onto her cheeks. Annabeth grabbed Percy's hand, unable to tear her eyes away. She didn't want to watch the horror that was unfolding but couldn't help imagining what lay in store for her and Percy. If it was anything like this, she wouldn't do it. She <em>couldn't </em>do it.</p><p>Luke's eyes were clenched shut as he pulled the trigger. Incredibly, no gunshot rang out. Thalia was left still breathing. Luke exhaled raggedly, dropping the gun. Annabeth realised with a shock of relief that he'd forgotten to switch off the safety.</p><p>Instantly, Luke collapsed to his knees before Thalia, head bowed and shoulders tremoring. "Thank God. Thank God." His eyes glistened with repentance in the church light. He tugged at Thalia's bonds a little maniacally, and Annabeth could tell he hated himself for ever trying to shoot her. "I didn't want to. I was just—I was fucking scared—"</p><p>As soon as Thalia was free, she pulled him into a bruising hug. Annabeth watched her lips form the words, <em>I know. I forgive you. </em>Still, Luke was quickly pulled away from Thalia by Watchers and escorted out of the hall through the back entrance. Thalia was taken away too, yelling at her captors to no avail.</p><p>After their departure came silence, but even that was soon interrupted by the crackling loudspeaker above. "<em>Dare failed,</em>" the voice announced. "<em>The second hostage will now be unveiled." </em>Annabeth reached out for Percy's hand and quietly laced their fingers together, bracing herself for whatever came next. She didn't want to think about the consequences of both of them failing their dares.</p><p>Annabeth could hardly bear to watch as another, quieter, hostage was brought out. They were short—of a child's stature—and wore a sack over their head just like Thalia had. Once they were sitting in the chair and their hands had been bound behind it, a Watcher harshly ripped the sack off their head. Annabeth let out a horrified gasp when she saw the hostage's face.</p><p>It was a young girl at maybe five or six years old. "Percy…?" the girl asked, her expression a picture of confusion and fear. She had thick, curly black hair and could've been for all the world a carbon copy of him, minus his oh-so-green eyes. She looked terrified and shell-shocked, like she was retreating within herself. She must've been Percy's sister—Estelle. Annabeth wanted to scoop her up and carry her away from here; no one had the right to keep a kid as a hostage like this.</p><p>Percy was shaking with anger and barely contained fury. "What the fuck? What the fuck?" he mumbled. His knuckles were white, screwed up into fists. He looked like he wanted to punch whoever had captured his sister, but wasn't sure who was the perpetrator. Turning to the audience, he fixed them all with a dangerous, volatile gaze. "You're fucking insane if you think I'd ever hurt her, even to win this sick-ass game," he yelled. He stormed forward and fiercely kicked away the handgun on the floor, making it clatter all the way across the unyielding stone floor.</p><p>Within a heartbeat, he was trying to undo the ropes binding Estelle with a kind of desperate fervour. Annabeth ran forward to help him, but both of them were grabbed and held back by Watchers as Estelle was escorted away. Hot tears ran down her cheeks as she cried out for Percy, but soon her voice was lost to distance as she was led out the back of the church.</p><p>Annabeth expected Percy to be escorted away too, but instead he was only clapped in steel cuffs and held still by a pair of masked Watchers. "Let me—go!" He struggled against their grip, but they held steadfast and prevented him from running after his sister.</p><p>Annabeth felt cold and alone as she looked out into the faceless audience of Watchers, all waiting to see if she'd win and claim victory. It sickened her to know that this whole thing was undoubtedly being filmed—people all over New York were witnessing all of this in real time as events unfolded. Watching, waiting, just to see if any of them would become murderers for fame and wealth.</p><p>Maybe it was pointless to think about now, but she hadn't asked for this. All she'd ever wanted was the money to go to a <em>fucking </em>college somewhere and stumble out of the suffocating cloud of her stepmother's illness and grief, however selfish that might've seemed. Now she might have to kill someone—all to avoid becoming a glorified ghost with no life and no identity. A prisoner of the game. Like Luke. Right now, it seemed like that was going to be both her <em>and </em>Percy's fates.</p><p>Yeah—it was safe to say that neither of them had asked for this.</p><p>Again, that dreaded voice came in over the loudspeaker. "<em>You may notice the lack of a third hostage,</em>" it began. "<em>This is due to the fact that it has been decided that your target, Annabeth, is the person who was once your partner—Mr. Jackson."</em> A pause. Annabeth's heart was heavy in her throat, a lead weight. "<em>You must complete this dare to become the ultimate winner of Nerve and avoid becoming a prisoner of the game. Good luck."</em></p><p>A Watcher pressed the previously discarded gun into Annabeth's hand. Her hesitant gaze met Percy's. His eyes were strangely dark in the dim light, a pale imitation of the true green she knew them to be. He didn't even look afraid.</p><p>Even with the possibility of death before him, Percy trusted her. Maybe that was what broke her heart most—that he'd willingly face the end of his life with arms unfolding without a second thought if Annabeth decided to pull the trigger. Annabeth hated it. This power she had over him, this power she didn't want to wield. They'd always been on even footing—that was why they worked, why they trusted one another.</p><p>Hell, they'd known each other for one night, but Annabeth thought she'd probably let herself sink six feet under for this boy already. Maybe that notion was irrational, but everything about this goddamn situation was irrational. Annabeth could've thrown her head back and laughed and laughed and laughed. Did these people expect her to kill Percy Jackson, someone she could see herself falling in love with, even to save herself from a lifetime as a ghost? Even for a million fucking dollars?</p><p>Annabeth wanted to scream, but that would've been pointless. Instead, she turned to the audience, gun hanging loose in her hand. They were all talking, shouting. Clamouring for her to <em>shoot, shoot him! </em>Raising her hand above her head, Annabeth fired one ear-splitting, shuddering gunshot toward the church ceiling. Immediately, everyone fell silent. A kind of cruel, tainted reverence drifted like a heavy blanket over everyone in the room.</p><p>For a giddy second, Annabeth felt like a god. Thoughts like that were probably blasphemy in a church, but Annabeth was too angry to think straight. "I bet you all think you're all so goddamn anonymous, don't you?" she screamed. Her voice was almost as loud as the gunshot. "Dressed up in your black masks, all so no one can see your fucking guilty faces. Well, I see you. You might as well be standing in the limelight."</p><p>The audience shifted uneasily. No one said a word. Annabeth's gaze flickered back to Percy's for a split second—long enough for her to see him shake his head, and mouth, <em>No, don't.</em></p><p>Annabeth flicked the gun's safety on, then off again. On, off. On, off. When she spoke again, it felt like shattering a glass wall of silence. "What would you do if I shot him right now? Oh, that's right. You'd cheer. You'd applaud." She scoffed. "Just a moment ago, you were begging me to put a bullet in his forehead. What does that make you? Complicit in his death? Not complicit? Either way, that shit would probably hang over you for the rest of your fucking miserable lives."</p><p>Annabeth looked down at the gun in her hand. Its metal was cold against her palm, and the reflective steel of it shined in a faint, ghostly way in the dim candlelight. It spoke of a hundred things, all at once—death, pain, impossibility. Annabeth didn't want to hold it anymore. She dropped it on the floor at her feet, and it clattered with utter finality.</p><p>Annabeth turned to the audience again. Looking out into all those unblinking, sullen masks...it was unsettling. Still, she could tell they were afraid. "You want a winner?" Annabeth walked back over to Percy and placed a gentle hand on his bruised cheek. "Well, you can have two. Both of us—or neither."</p><p>To Annabeth's surprise, neither of the Watchers holding him tried to stop her or pull Percy away from her grasp. When her hand fell away, Percy released a breath. He smiled at her. "We played as partners, we'll win as partners," he whispered.</p><p>For a moment, everything was silent. But then the loudspeaker crackled again, and began to speak. "<em>It has been determined that Annabeth Chase and her ally, Percy Jackson, are officially the co-winners of this year's Nerve! We will be in contact regarding your winnings." </em>As soon as the loudspeaker shut off, the crowd went insane. Annabeth could hardly believe her ears.</p><p>Straight after the Watchers freed Percy from his cuffs, he wrapped Annabeth in a tight embrace. Annabeth buried her face in his neck and tried not to start sobbing. He smelled like ash and smoke from the fire they'd been caught in, but Annabeth never wanted to let go. "God, I can't believe we made it. I can't believe we survived," she mumbled, her words muffled against his chest.</p><p>Percy's laugh was a shudder against her. "Me neither," he managed. "I'm just glad we're together."</p><p>Everything after that was a blur. Frantic shouts echoed off the church's stone walls, and Annabeth and Percy were pushed and shoved by the panicking crowd. The surreal mob mentality that had seized all the Watchers earlier now melted away, leaving an air of chaos as somebody screamed that the police were arriving. Sirens blared in the distance. Percy grabbed Annabeth's hand, shaking her out of her stupor. "Come on!" he yelled. Annabeth quickly recovered as her legs started working again. Together, they stumbled out through the back exit along with a river of Watchers, holding tight to each other.</p><p>When they emerged into the open air, Annabeth broke out into gasps as she sucked fresh air into her lungs. "Oh, God..." She pulled her phone out and sent a quick text to Piper, letting her know where they were. Percy was looking around frantically. Up the street, cop cars were pulling up in a haze of blue and red.</p><p>They took off running. Annabeth's fear eased as they staggered into a quiet, secluded alleyway away from the watchful eyes of the police. Percy was smiling, then grinning. Annabeth started laughing too—his happiness was infectious. Tears leaked into her eyes, but they were mostly just from relief. Relief that they'd made it.</p><p>Annabeth reached up to hold Percy's cheek, fingers shaking as they fluttered against his skin. He was bruised black and blue but was still easily the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She kissed him once, then again. He pulled her close, and her head fell to his shoulder. "How the fuck are we still alive?" she breathed.</p><p>Percy laughed again, but it was quiet. "Jesus, I don't know." His lips found Annabeth's again, and he laced their fingers together. "But we are."</p><p>It didn't take Piper long to drive by to pick them up. When she rolled down the windscreen, worry was etched deep into her face. "Annabeth! Shit, are you okay? Get in!"</p><p>Annabeth and Percy tumbled into the back seat of her sleek car, never letting go of each other. "Hey, Pipes," she managed.</p><p>Jason was in the shotgun seat beside Piper. He turned around, brows furrowed. "We were so scared. We watched everything on a livestream. God, Beth. I thought you were gonna die."</p><p>Annabeth croaked out a laugh. "So did I, at times."</p><p>Piper looked a little wrecked. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Annabeth's shoulders, trembling slightly. "I'm so glad you're alright. I was fucking terrified."</p><p>Annabeth held her, burying her nose in Piper's hair. Piper felt like warmth, like security. "Thanks for getting us," Annabeth mumbled. She broke away from Piper, leaning back against the seat with a soft exhalation.</p><p>There wasn't much talking, after that. Exhaustion hit Annabeth like a train. It was only just five in the morning, and she hadn't slept in nearly twenty-four hours. Outside the window, rain hesitantly began to fall. Water ran down the glass in rivulets, dancing through the dust. Annabeth suddenly became aware of the state she was in—her ruined dress, her scraped body. Her lungs felt heavy with ash from the fire. She imagined stepping out into the rain, letting all the dirt and blood be washed away in streams.</p><p>Annabeth turned away from the window, and Percy's gaze snagged onto hers. He half-smiled and reached out for her hand. "Hey—you good?" he asked.</p><p>Annabeth offered a half-smile back, lacing their fingers together. "Yeah." His palms were calloused and rough against her skin. In the front, Jason clicked the radio on. Music started playing quietly, its lyrics drifting through the car.</p>
<hr/><p>Morning filtered into noon, and they all showered and ate at Piper's. Annabeth was bone-tired, but it felt like she'd never get to sleep—Helen's calls hounded her. Every second she was away from Percy she felt like collapsing. Percy had things to do, too. He'd contacted Nerve immediately with his wish to organise his and Estelle's emancipation, and though all the legal work couldn't happen right away, he still wanted to take her away from his stepdad's care sooner rather than later for his own peace of mind.</p><p>And so they walked down Percy's street together on their way to get Estelle, not quite touching but still only centimetres apart. The sun had risen hours ago, and its light reflected off the road with a fervent intensity. The ancient concrete beneath them was littered with potholes, matching the run-down buildings around them. Poverty bled from the crevices of this place—nothing Annabeth herself wasn't used to, but she felt like she understood Percy a little more after seeing the street he grew up on.</p><p>It was so bitter outside that Annabeth's breath was tangible in the air. She curled her hands into her sleeves, tucking the ends over her knuckles. Beside her, Percy bumped his hip gently into hers. "You cold?"</p><p>Annabeth only nodded in reply. She searched his face, taking in his freckles, darkening bruises, the lines of his cheekbones. All the ash and blood on him was washed away, but exhaustion and damage were written into his expression deeper than any of his features. Annabeth carefully reached out and took his hand. It was warm, a temporary relief on her icy skin.</p><p>Percy smiled softly at her. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it, seemingly deciding against it. Suddenly, he stopped. "Oh, we're here." Annabeth almost bumped into him, then followed his gaze.</p><p>An apartment block, all battered stone and dirty windows. Annabeth's mouth immediately felt dry. Her voice was halting when she spoke. "Which…which floor's yours?"</p><p>"The basement." Annabeth didn't want to imagine it—the darkness, the conditions in which he lived. Percy's eyes were getting that shuttered look again, and Annabeth wanted to pull him out of it so badly.</p><p>She gently squeezed his hand in that way they always did, trying to draw his gaze back to her. "C'mon, let's get Estelle."</p><p>Annabeth tried to walk forward, but Percy didn't move, stock-still in his place. He was staring at the door like it was an enemy, hands shaking ever so slightly. "I'm scared," he bit out. "What if he doesn't let me take her? What if he tries something? What if…" He shook his head and clenched his eyes shut, clearly fighting back the tremor in his voice.</p><p>Annabeth took his sleeve gently, tugging him a step closer. She leaned forward and kissed him carefully on the cheek, a stabilising presence. "Whatever happens, we'll be together. You know that, right?"</p><p>Percy's smile was a half-made thing, but he still refocused on Annabeth. "I know," he answered softly. Then he kissed her, earnest and blazing. When his lips fell away from hers, new hope unfolded between them. Suddenly the present seemed a little less painful, and the future a little less bleak.</p><p>When the pair of them headed inside, their footsteps resounded into the cracked concrete.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading xx</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find the aesthetic board for this fic at this link: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/suicidalstolenart4668/body-gold/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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